


Let Me In

by Anouk1988, Hikari89



Series: Let Me In Universe [1]
Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Angst but not always (it's real life), Anne has the hots for suspenders (and so do we), Bash is the best, Cole worships Shirbert but is a tease, Covid set AU (come to that), Delly is too good for her own good, Domestic, F/M, Fluffly (so very fluffy), Humor as well, Jerry and Anne are kind of siblings, Jerry swears a lot (in Quebecois), M/M, Mary is the voice of reason, Mature Avonlea gang, Modern set AU, Protective Gil, Slow burn to point of freezing, Smut (eventual), The group chats are the best, There's a cute dog here, They suffer as we do, They will get there (eventually), This is covid time, This is real life (kind of), Unresolved Issues, Very stubborn Anne, Very wicked Gil, Winnie is not nice here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 189,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27568681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anouk1988/pseuds/Anouk1988, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hikari89/pseuds/Hikari89
Summary: March 2020. The Atlantic Provinces are creating a bubble to avoid a surge in Covid cases, and Anne is left outside as they close borders. Stranded in Toronto, she knows no one at all. Or does she?“You are kidding me, Diana Barry! Baynard! Are you even hearing what you’re saying? I’m not calling Gilbert Blythe. I prefer to sleep in my dingy place and then befriend all the homeless people in Toronto and then walk to PEI and stand there until they open the damn border before calling him! It is just not going to happen! Today, tomorrow or ever, it is out of the question! I’m done with him and I will never ask him for any favours!” She had been glad not to see him in the past ten years. Well, not glad. But relieved. Because it was just too hard.“I actually called to ask you a favour. Huge one,” Diana answered. He could tell she was nervous.“I need you to call Anne and let her stay at your place until PEI opens the borders,” Diana said quickly, as if to take the effect off the words. There was a short silence. Then he laughed. Because the notion was so absurd, he could not think of any other reaction. If she had asked him to get a cow that gave chocolate milk, it would have seemed more serious.
Relationships: Diana Barry/Jerry Baynard, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Mary Lacroix/Sebastian ''Bash'' Lacroix, Royal "Roy" Gardner/Cole Mackenzie, Ruby Gillis/Moody Spurgeon MacPherson
Series: Let Me In Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126016
Comments: 1307
Kudos: 693





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> So, Anne, Gilbert and the gang live in 2020 and guess what? Covid happens. 
> 
> This story is aaaaaaalmost finished and it is already 243,000 long. So just know, it is a slow burn. It will get there. It will evolve. There are some relatable things (banana bread, anyone?), a very old issue between Anne and Gil that will need some addressing at some point and very funny situations as well as many, many tears.
> 
> There's also many very very detailed things drawn from real life (such as the Atlantic bubble and yes, google that), but some are just what we need for the story (like how hospitals work). We will add a note when we deviate a lot from reality if it's necessary. Neither of us is Canadian or has English as a first language. So any comment to correct some writing or inaccuracy is, of course, very welcomed.
> 
> Also, playlist for today, in case you need to get into the mood: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/274pqCrgHZTz63YQ1Mo0oG?si=skPbMzsBTvamfewUIlfBPg
> 
> We really hope you enjoy reading as much as we've enjoyed writing!

Anne left a breath out as she exited the AGO, forgetting for a moment all her worries and trying hard to concentrate on the exhibition she had come for. She wasn’t ready to confront reality. Not yet. She took out her phone, looked where she was again on the map and decided to go to the park next to the gallery.

**Anne S-C (14:08): You should have come with me. You would have so enjoyed the exhibition. It was fantastical and so expressive and… Oh, Cole!!

**Cole (14:10): I know, but I can’t get away that easily now. We’ll plan our Toronto getaway soon, Nan. How’s the big city treating you?

**Anne S-C (14:10): It’s way colder than Vancouver. I had somehow forgotten how it is to have the chill in my cheeks and it’s the most refreshing feeling. But I’ve been living in a big city for a while now, so it’s not as bad. I want to go home now, though.

**Cole (14:11): Tomorrow! I’ll pick you up at the airport and give you the biggest hug. Send me your flight details :*

As she sat down, she could no longer ignore her worries. At some point she was going to have to face them. At 27, she had just been fired for the first time and she wasn’t quite sure about what to do over that. Going to another school in Vancouver with “fired” on her resume was not going to look well (neither in PEI, probably) and she truly had no idea what to do. Cole had tried being optimistic: _you could write your book!_ Diana had been, as always, more realistic: _you have to earn money to eat so you can write your book!_ And they both reminded her of how much she hated her teaching job in Vancouver, anyway.

It wasn’t that she hated teaching. She actually loved being with kids and teaching. She just hated… the school system and the rigidity and how it seemed to limit children and form them as if it was a factory. Well, it was the prussian style, after all, she thought as she groaned, thinking back on how she had shouted just that to the principal. With some more flowery words and way more details and examples of other faculty members than necessary. In front of the whole school assembly. She would have kicked herself out, honestly.

If she didn’t have so little in savings, if she had a home and anything close to stability, she would actually consider the book writing thing and maybe go to school again to get a certification and be able to teach in the sort of schools she believed in. Mainly writing. She had just been surviving for so long that neither seemed like a real alternative. Taking the time to write? A dream. Getting a certification to be able to teach in more humane schools, that actually gave any importance to the kids and not only the money? Even bigger dreams.

How she longed for Matthew’s quiet reassurance and Marilla’s sensibility. They would know what to say and how to guide her. They always had. She missed them more than she could ever admit and felt so lost without the only family she had ever known. She was going back to PEI only for the familiarity of it. Because she wanted to believe that, once there, she would feel at home again. Even if she hadn’t felt it was much of a home after highschool and her fight with Gilbert Blythe.

Frustrated, Anne leaned back and looked at the people crossing the park. Lunch hour long gone, there weren’t many. She stayed there for a while, just looking, without minding when a couple of elderly men sat down on the bench next to her.

“...closing the borders in the provinces…” she heard one of them say, catching just the end of the sentence. Why on earth would the provinces close the borders? She didn’t think much about it and looked at the time. She still had two hours more before she could do web check in for her flight next morning. She got up and decided to walk to the lake in the chilly early March air. At least it wasn’t raining.

She tried again. It had to be an error. Her flight could not simply be cancelled. She entered her information once more and received the same message. She called the customer support number, but there was an automatic message: estimated wait time, two hours. Flight going to the Atlantic Provinces, cancelled. For more information, check your email. And so she did (because she was not going to hold for two hours) and found that what she had heard on the park was correct: some provinces were closing borders. Creating their own tight pandemic bubble.

There was no use. PEI had indeed closed the borders and she was outside her home. If she could even call it that. And this shithole she had booked clearly was not going to work for any period of time, she was dreading going back for this night, as it was. She decided to call Diana. She was always the sensible one. She even seemed to be a complete adult, with family, responsibilities and whatnot. She would know what to do, because she always knew. So she looked in her favorites and called her. 

“Shit shit shit shit Diana, what do I do?” Anne asked frantically her bosom friend, while changing the phone from one ear to the other, after quickly explaining the situation.

“You stay calm, for starters, Anne. You’re not in freaking Italy, Toronto isn’t as bad.”

“It isn’t great either. Plus, I don’t have anywhere to stay after tomorrow when I’m checking out of this dingy airbnb. Why did I book it, again?”

“You wanted to go to the AGO on your way home, so the stopover in Toronto made sense.”

“Oh, why didn’t it occur to me that this could happen?”

“Everything is changing more quickly than we care to admit. Take deep breaths, Anne, and let’s brainstorm… Moody and Ruby? They weren’t living there?”

“You know as well as I do that they moved back to PEI on Christmas last year. You have drinks with them every Friday. They couldn’t stand the city. You meet with them almost weekly, Di” there was a non-committal sound on the other sound of the line. Anne looked up to the CN tower, still cursing in her head. Why didn’t it occur to her that PEI could close borders to all but essential travel? And of course, a just-fired BC teacher trying to go back to the place she once called home was not essential travel. She didn’t have a place to live on her name she could use to show to the border officer, Green Gables gone since they lost it to a badly managed mortgage. And she didn’t have any family. _How she missed gentle, loving Cuthberts._

“Ok. Do we know anyone with family in Toronto? Tillie didn’t have an uncle who was a banker…?”

“Dead three years ago.”

“Some friend from Uni? One of your acquaintances from school? Some teacher? You’re still in touch with your teacher… what’s her name, Miss Stacy?”

“I’ve never worked with anyone close to Ontario… I have loads of contacts in PEI, which is why I’m going there, and then some in BC, but those hate me now. I guess I could write to the ones in PEI to see if they know of someone? I mean, it’s only for a couple of days…I’ll write to Muriel, see if she has anyone...”

“What about your friend from Nova Scotia? Kak’wet?”

“She’s never been out of the Atlantic provinces. But I’ll write to her, maybe her father knows someone?”

“Ok. Let’s to this. You call them and I write in the groups I’m in. Someone is bound to know someone.”

“I’ll do the same, then. Call you in five?” Diana accepted and she hung up. She went to whatsapp and scanned the groups she was in. She sent a generic message to most of them, not hoping for anything, and then went into the highschool one. If any had any possibilities, it was this one.

**Anne S-C @ Avongang (16:32): Hey hey hey! Guess who’s not going to be in for Friday drinks! :’( In all seriousness, PEI hates me and closed borders. Please, do any of you have a friendly acquaintance in Toronto willing to have me for a couple of days? Yesterday I counted ten roaches in the airbnb I’m in.

**Kak’wet KS (16:33): Melkita’ulamun! I’ll ask dad. But I honestly can’t think of anyone. Take care. I’ll write to you if I find anyone. 

**Muriel (16:34): Anne! I’m so sorry to hear about you in these circumstances. Please take care of yourself, the news are dreadful. I’ll write to some contacts in the U of T and see if anyone can have you. 

She looked anxiously at the screen, crossing her fingers, hoping that please, at least one of them had a second retired aunt that was loving and had a spare bedroom. Or had better news than her kindred spirit. But, as the messages started coming in, she groaned in frustration. Diana’s picture appeared on her screen.

“Ok. So… please tell me you had any luck,” was the first thing she said.

“Not yet. Still waiting for answers on a pedagogy research group but the chances are very slim. Same with Ka’kwet and Muriel.” Diana sighed on the other side of the line, as if she was bracing herself to do something she really didn’t want. “You? Please tell me you have something, Di.”

“I… might have an idea. But I need you to promise you will keep an open mind and don’t hang up on me when I say it,” she said, with her mother voice, which caused Ane to worry instantly. This couldn’t be good. And if it wasn’t good… “Anne!”

“Yes, I promise. Out with it.”

“Gilbert. He’s in Hamilton. That’s close to Toronto,” she said. Anne was starting to protest, and Diana cut her with a strong voice. “Before you say anything, it’s been ten years, Anne. I’m pretty sure he would be willing to help. And you said it yourself, it’s only for a few days, maybe you don’t even have to see him that much… It is a last resort thing, but… I have nothing else. That or your airbnb.”

Anne was so in shock she couldn’t bring herself to answer, feeling a knot form in her throat. Flashes of the last times she had seen Gilbert, just after graduation, crossed her mind. The messages where he tried to explain how it was all a mistake. The calls she never took. Marilla’s worried face. Gilbert going to her house with a letter, and she tearing it down in confetti-sized bits while looking him in the eyes. She seemed to recall she was silently crying as she did that, but when wasn’t she crying those months before uni? Matthew going out one day, a stern look on his face. Gilbert hadn’t come back.

Above all, Gilbert with Winifred Rose.

It still hurt like hell. The void in her was still as raw and as big as it was back when she was seventeen.

“Anne?”

“You are kidding me, Diana Barry! Baynard! Are you even hearing what you’re saying? I’m not calling Gilbert Blythe. I prefer to sleep in my dingy place and _then_ befriend all the homeless people in Toronto and _then_ walk to PEI and stand there until they open the damn border before calling him! It is just not going to happen! Today, tomorrow or ever, it is out of the question! I’m done with him and I will never ask him for any favours!” She had been glad not to see him in the past ten years. Well, not glad. But relieved. Because it was just too hard.

“With the roaches and your little savings going quickly? Anne, be reasonable. I’m sure he will help you and we both know this covid thing won’t be long and you’ll be in PEI at my place by the end of next week”

“I can’t call him, Diana. I’m serious. I’m not asking him anything. I’m not even talking to him. I’m honestly telling you I will hitchhike to Nova Scotia and wait there for PEI to open.”

“Nova Scotia is closed as well. You would get only to Quebec, all the Atlantic’s closed. And we both know he will do it,” Diana, as always, tried to be the voice of reason. Her phone buzzed and she looked at the notification, hopping it bore some good news.

**Kak’wet (16:50): So sorry, Anne. The last contact father had moved back to NS last year and we don’t trust anyone there now. 

“ _You_ think you know, because you kept in touch. But it’s _me_ we’re talking about. I haven’t talked to him since that bonfire from hell after graduation. And I’m not changing that. He won’t be interested in helping _me_ of all people, we both know how he says one thing about caring and then goes and hurts me where it… I can’t Diana. Honestly, just to think about it, I can’t,” she answered, trying not to think that drunken night when they finished school. Or any other night. And trying to keep her tears at bay. She had cried enough for him. “Plus, he must be a doctor now, aren’t those supposed to be super occupied with this virus thing? Let him work and save lives, he’s had enough of me for this lifetime as he clearly stated years ago, and I’m not going to impose. Because I would rather sleep on a bench than go to his house.”

“It’s not like you will be spending time with him, you’ll be crashing his couch. Here, let me send you his number.” Anne felt her phone buzz and looked at it. A notification on her screen.

**Bosom friend (16:52): Gilbert Blythe, Phone: 289 697 6548**

“Seriously, Diana, can’t we look for a way for you to be my direct family so they will admit me in PEI? I won’t call him. It’s not an option.”

“No. We went through that. Now call him or I’ll call him and you know that will be worse. I’m honestly sorry it’s him, but it’s the one person everyone kept pointing to me. We know no one else in Ontario, Toronto or not. Call me back as soon as you hang up with him, I want to know you’ll have a place to sleep tomorrow. Else, I’m calling him in twenty”

“I’ll think about it,” Anne groaned and hung up, knowing full well she was not going to call. She looked at the phone again, thinking if it was worth it. Giving it a second thought. She really had nowhere to go. Her savings were honestly scarce, the liquidation they had given her upon firing her had been minimal. That’s what you gained when you yelled at the principal, she supposed. _But it hurt so much._ Deciding for a coffee (weather was miserable those days) she looked around for a Timmies, walking around some blocks, and decided to mull on the subject while getting warm. She was sure there had to be more cheap Airbnbs.

**Muriel (17:01): Sorry, Anne. No luck. I hope you find somewhere, let’s catch up one of these days?

“Hi, Di, what’s up?” Gilbert answered his phone while he waited for the elevator, on his way to get a coffee. Somehow she always had perfect timing. Well, almost, because he had Fred next to him making annoyed faces.

“Good, everything’s good. Are you working?”

“I am, but was just heading to get some coffee with Fred. So I have a bit of time if it’s urgent, I don’t want to be rude with him. Is something wrong? Marie, Jerry?” Fred shook his head, rolling his eyes but a smile on his face.

“All good and healthy, thank you. She’s been asking about uncle Gilbert and wants to know when you’re coming, actually. Say hi to Fred on my behalf, please.”

“I…. I don’t know, Di. I would love to go on Easter, but it’s looking a bit grim, to be honest.”

“This virus thing?”

“Yes. Please take care of you and the family? I know PEI has been good so far, but keep washing your hands and disinfecting and don’t go to crowded places…”

“Yes, doc. You don’t worry for us, ok? You’ve been drilling us enough in that group.”

“So tell me, what’s going on?” he asked as they entered the coffee shop.

“I actually called to ask you a favour. Huge one,” Diana answered. He could tell she was nervous. 

“Ok, just give me a second. Just what you’re having, Fred, I’ll be just a minute,” he offered his card and his friend dismissed it. They received the coffees and were quickly going to the door, not wanting to stay inside. “Sorry about that. So what is this huge favor Diana Baynard has to ask from me? It must be a first.”

“I need you to call Anne and let her stay at your place until PEI opens the borders,” Diana said quickly, as if to take the effect off the words. There was a short silence. Then he laughed. Because the notion was so absurd, he could not think of any other reaction. If she had asked him to get a cow that gave chocolate milk, it would have seemed more serious. Fred looked at him like he had two heads. Dr. Blythe was not the merry kind and his face was not merry, anyway. More of a _this is a cruel joke_ kind of expression. “Gilbert, I’m honestly not kidding.”

“You are. You have to be joking. You, Diana Baynard, are asking me, Gilbert Blythe, to have Anne Shirley-Cuthbert at my place? The favour I can do to you is write a prescription so you can go to a psychiatrist. Hey, Fred here is a good option. Would do you some good,” he tried to keep joking because he didn’t know what to do with the alternative. Fred opened his eyes, and tried to get Gilbert’s attention, who just gave him his back.

“Gilbert, I’m dead serious. She managed to get stranded midway between BC and PEI. She had a flight for tomorrow and they cancelled it. I already checked with everyone I know and she did the same. We only know you in Ontario.” He drank some coffee, ignoring Fred’s antics.

“Di, as much as I love both of you, I don’t think this is a good idea. And you have to convince her first. She has not spoken to me in a decade, she’s not about to go willingly to stay in my place.”

“It’s honestly that or sleeping with roaches until her savings wear out or PEI opens the borders. Even Anne is not that stubborn,” she answered, her voice stressed and practical. Only he knew she was. But what was Diana saying, anyway?

“Please give me more details. I’m not agreeing yet, mind you. I still think it’s a bad idea. But why would she be spending her savings and sleeping in a dirty place? Fred, wait a minute, you’re behaving like a toddler.”

“Because that’s the cheapest airbnb she could find for two nights and she has no job. Please, Gilbert. I would owe you everything.”

“I thought she was a teacher back at BC,” he mentioned, because even if he didn’t speak with her, he always asked how she was doing. He could never help himself. He had to know how Anne was. Not in a stalker way, just… know-she-was-doing-fine way.

“Got fired last Thursday. She was coming home and stopped in Toronto to go to a gallery. Arrived last night, was supposed to catch the flight to Charlottetown tomorrow morning.”

“You have to be kidding me, Diana. Anne got fired?” what was going on with her life that it would come to that? He felt his resolve waning, just because he could not imagine her homeless in Toronto or spending all she owned paying for a horrible place. He just wanted to take care of her. Like he always had. And he knew for a fact the pandemic was just starting. It would only get worse for weeks. They were doing all they could in the hospital to make a separate ICU for Covid patients just so the rest would be safe. He couldn’t have his patients getting that. They would die. But there again, this was Anne. He wasn’t sure about this. It…

“Just take her in, Gilbert? Maybe she will tell you the details? But please, call her? We both know she’s not going to do it and she really needs a place to stay. Do you still have her number? It’s the same old one.”

“I…. Diana, honestly, this is not a good idea. She has been able to effectively avoid me for years. And yes, I still have her number,” He still knew it by heart, if he was fully honest.

“I know, Gilbert… I just… Honest? I think that, even if these are the worst conditions, I think it might be the best chance both of you will get to get over this thing. Something will come out of this, good or not, but at least you both won’t keep hanging in there,” he mumbled something. “She might be hostile, because she’s Anne. And she won’t ever admit she’s missed you, but she has. Just… please, Gilbert? For your old friend? Marie! Stop that now! I have to go now. Marie just spilled a gallon of milk on the floor. But please, please call Anne. For old time’s sake.” She hung up and he stared at his phone. Calling Anne was opening Pandora’s box. And for all he wanted her in his life (even if he had all but given up many years ago) he didn’t know if he was brave enough to do so. And it was a bad idea.

**Diana (17:04): Please Gilbert!! Here’s her address, just in case. Let me know, I’ll keep looking for options.

“Blythe, if you don’t call Anne I’m calling her and bringing her to your doorstep,” Fred declared, drinking more of his coffee. Gilbert looked at him.

“I was serious when I said I don’t think this is a good idea,” Gilbert insisted. For the third time. He sighed. It was clear that the ball was on his side: Diana was right, Anne would never call.

“When are you not serious? In all truth, you’ve been moping since before I met you at Uni so if this has the slightest chance of making this right between mythical Anne and you, please call her. Or I will. Believe me, I’m not above calling Diana and asking for her number.”

“I… God, this is not going to end well, Fred. I just know it. I’m pretty sure she blocked my number and everything at some point,” he commented, frustrated, remembering how he tried to call her non-stop for months after graduation. Until Matthew showed up.

“I’m sure it’s not that way, Blythe. Stop the drama. I’ll tell you what: if you are so sure about her blocking your number, call her now. _If_ she picks ups, which I absolutely think she will, then you offer your place and give this… whatever this is, a chance. If she has indeed blocked you, then I invite you to dinner at my place tomorrow. I can convince my mother in law to make your favorite.”

“You’re mental. And you won’t be able. She has said many times she only cooks that for thanksgiving.”

“I have my methods to convince Ella, which I won’t describe to you, poor celibate man. And then I’m set. And you love me. Go on. Call legendary Anne. I have to see if she is indeed a human being,” Fred said. “Here, give me this. How is she saved?”

“Carrots,” Gilbert mumbled after hesitating a moment, his ears red, his hand going to the back of his neck. Fred slapped it and Gilbert gave him a hurt look.

“Stop fidgeting and think of what you’re gonna say!” he laughed, but looked anyway and dialed before Gilbert could say anything more.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, you all!
> 
> We are completely overwhelmed by the response we got for the first chapter. This has been a labour of love over the past few months and truly is a joy to see its reception.
> 
> Just as a head up: we're updating every Saturday for the being. Don't worry, don't fret, we'll be here next week. Pinky promise.
> 
> Music for today, if you're at all interested in following up with the soundtrack we prepared: https://link.tospotify.com/M369JGooAbb
> 
> ...And that all before the chapter, enjoy!

Anne was just sitting at a vacant table, determined to look at all the accommodation options, paid or free, the city had to offer, when her phone started buzzing again. She fished for it in her coat pocket, leaving the double double on the table. Diana was way too impatient. She didn’t even look at the number before answering.

“Diana, I told you, I will think about it. Happy?” she said in an annoyed and frustrated voice. Diana was way too impatient.

“Anne?” she suddenly felt very cold, and then very very warm. Her heart stopped and she was left without a voice. Everything at the same time. Gilbert was surprised by her greeting as much as for her answering, Fred making a ridiculous dance. Maybe she was waiting for a call from her friend? Surely she didn’t have his number, she wouldn’t have answered. He braced himself to the conversation. “Nevermind, obviously it’s you. Diana called me, she says you’re stranded in Toronto and need a place to stay?”

“I have a place to stay,” she groaned after a few seconds. She was going to kill her bosom friend. She was so, so dead.

“Until tomorrow, yeah. Look, my shift ends in about half an hour. I can pick you up at your airbnb in about two, considering traffic? Diana gave me the address,” why the fuck was he so polite? How come he was so fricking practical and nice when they hadn’t exchanged a word in over ten years? Gilbert was improvising a plan as he went, doing his best to guard his words and keep everything to a minimum. He knew he had to: if he spoke any word out of line she would surely hang up. And now that she had answered he really, really wanted her to accept. He still knew her and her stubbornness, and if he was doing this, then it would be done effectively and ideally with as little discussions as feasible. He would deal with the aftermath when she was gone. He had done it before. “Anne, focus,” she felt she was turning even redder.

“Gilbert, I am fine. Really. I’ll figure it out.” she groaned. She didn’t want to speak with him. Not now. Not ever.

“For sure, like you figured out going for a holiday when every single country in the world is closing borders. Be serious, Anne. I’ll pick you up, as soon as PEI is open you’re on your way and we each go back to our lives.”

“First, I am not on a holiday. I have more sense than that. And second, I don’t need you” she heard him sigh on the other side. He had known that for years. When he was still trying to talk to her, it had been a recurrent remark on the very few times he managed to get some sort of response out of her.

“I’ve taken notice, yes,” he said in a quieter, somehow sadder voice and Anne felt something clench inside her. She dismissed the feeling promptly, still firmly against anything inside of her clenching because of him. “Let’s meet at your place at half past seven, ok?”

“No, Gilbert. It’s not necessary. I can handle this,” she insisted, a bit harsher than previously. 

“Look, Anne, I have no idea how you found yourself in this situation. I am just trying to help because Diana asked. I have no need for this. So, can I pick you up at 7:30?” He was getting tired. If she didn’t accept now, he was not going to push it more. He really had  _ no _ need for any of this. His life finally made sense. He wanted her to accept but was not going to push. Anne didn’t answer immediately. She could see a group of homeless people from the window and she dreaded ending up like that. If it was either ignoring Gilbert at his place or this, she could ignore Gilbert. Stay forever in the guest room.

“Fine,” she finally growled in a low voice. Gilbert wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. 

“Come again? Can you repeat that?” Ok, he had heard, but he just wanted to savor this small victory.

“I said yes! I accept! Happy? Yey, you just managed to convince me to go with you. Woo-hoo, should be thrilling,” she answered sarcastically. She was in a bad mood by now. Gilbert didn’t answer anything. “But there’s no need for you to pick me up, just send the address. I can get to your place on my own. There’s certainly enough public transit around.” she insisted, her voice slightly milder. 

“You’ll take forever. More than an hour from Toronto. And I’m not comfortable with you going around with your bags in a crowded place right now. I… do you have a facemask?” he asked, changing the subject abruptly as he was entering the supply room. She couldn’t be just walking around as if nothing was happening, right? She was stubborn but not stupid.

“Of course I don’t, they’ve been saying they’re only for front line workers,” Anne answered. Gilbert sighed. Exasperated? Worried? She didn’t even know (he didn’t eiher, for that matter). And she was done trying to understand him or read his tones.

“Please tell me at least you have a scarf” Anne looked at her huge scarf, the same one she’d had since high school. The one she had stolen from Matthew at some point, only to have her guardian chuckle. “Forget it, I know you do. You always have one. Look, please wear it whenever you’re inside and keep away from other people? And cover your mouth and nose?” he pleaded, worried.

“Relax, Gilbert. It’s not that bad,” she said. The news wasn't so bad. Yes, Europe seemed to be in a bad situation, but Canada was no Europe. Or at least it didn’t seem.

“It is, Anne. Please. Take care of yourself. I’ll be there shortly. I have to go now, they’re calling me, but I’ll meet you at your airbnb. Ok?”

“I guess,” she answered, resigned. Nothing in her life ever worked out as she wished.

“Ok. I’ll see you. Wear your scarf up. Bye now” Gilbert hung up and Anne looked stupidly at her phone for a few minutes. What had just happened? A new notification appeared on her screen, followed by another one.

**Gil (17:13): It’s Gilbert. Save my number.

As if she could possibly not have it. It was the same one he’d had since highschool. And she’d never had the heart to erase it from her phone. It always seemed more definitive than all the other places she had erased him from. His old nickname stared at her.

“Everything alright, Blythe?” a nurse asked him. He nodded, passing a hand through his hair. What had he gotten himself into? Fred had left him on the hospital door with another joke and he had gone up to the oncology floor on autopilot. His phone buzzed. “Patient in 508 is ready for check-up.”

“I’ll be right there. Thank you, Jeanne.” He looked at the notification.

**Diana (17:13): So?

Gilbert shook his head, not wanting to deal with Diana and her weird request right now. He still didn’t even know what to think about his conversation with Anne and was trying to organize his mind on how to go about it. He should probably bring her a facemask, god only could know if she had already caught this virus already. And a thermometer. He would look into that before leaving. He sighed, before knocking on the door with the number 508 and getting there, trying to put his best face and not the  _ i’m-about-to-pick-the-love-of-my-life-who-hates-me _ face.

His shift was finally over and he was about to go pick up Anne Shirley-Cuthbert after having effectively managed to avoid each other for ten years. He took off his scarf and coat and threw them in the back before starting the engine. His car was cold. He fished the phone again, deciding it would not do to ignore Diana for ever. There was a new message, only from a couple of minutes back, just confirming her intensity on the matter.

**Diana (17:42): Gilbert Blythe answer back or I’ll call you. I still haven’t been able to get hold of anyone else in Ontario so I’m counting on you.

**Gilbert Blythe (17:45): Breathe, Diana. I’ll pick her up. 

**Diana (17:45): Great! So glad everything worked out. How was she?

**Gilbert Blythe (17:45): She was… hostile.

**Diana (17:46): Of course she was. It’s Anne. You just have to crack her hard exterior. Again. Gilbert, thanks for this, really. She wouldn’t have called you and I can’t think of anyone else in Ontario. 

**Diana (17:46): Plus, I think it’ll give you both a chance to smooth things over.

**Gilbert Blythe (17:46): There’s nothing to smooth anymore, Di. She never gave an opportunity for it to be.

**Diana (17:46): Maybe now? 🥺

**Gilbert Blythe (17:47): Stop it with the pout emoji. Not becoming on you. Just pray she doesn’t kill me in my sleep? I’ll talk to you soon. Keep you posted. 😘

**Bosom friend (18:45): You’re welcome. Now don’t be an ass. Love you! 💛

**Anne S-C (18:46): So not ready to talk with you now. I feel ambushed. 

**Bosom friend (18:47): You’ll thank me later. Still love you. Marie says hi, make sure to call one of these days because she thought auntie Anne was coming and now she’s sad. 

Gilbert opened Google Maps, pasted the address Diana had sent him and drove off, trying to distract himself with music,  _ Leader of the band _ by Dan Fogelberg playing from the playlist he had chosen. Getting on the highway, he thanked that at least for the portion back they would be able to use the high occupancy lane. God, he hated going to the city. The traffic was heavy, but he was so absent minded he almost didn’t notice as time, streets and cars flew by.

_ You have reached your destination _ , the GPS finally told him. He was in front of a decidedly dodgy place. Even if there was no impending pandemic, there was no way he was letting Anne sleep there one more night. 

**Gilbert Blythe (19:32): I’m here. Need help with bags?

**Carrots (19:32): Of course not. I’m a capable woman. I’m going out, which car?

He felt his mouth go dry. He hadn’t seen her nickname willingly appear on his screen in more than ten years. Well, there was no going back, now. She was staying with him for a couple of days. To start. He was a bit more pessimistic about the evolution of the pandemic than he cared to admit and knew it would more likely be a couple of  _ months _ .

Anne really didn’t have much. She had sent boxes of what she thought was worth something back to Diana and Jerry’s place back in Avonlea a couple of days ago. Only three. Turns out, not much was worth anything. She had left the furnished apartment, packed the few belongings and mementos she had of Green Gables and the Cuthberts, and her clothes. Those were actually few: they had sold the furniture to pay for debts years ago, only staying with a small share to furnish the small apartment where Marilla had lived her last days. That was still in a warehouse back in Charlottetown. And she didn’t have anything else: after highschool, she had thrown everything that reminded her even slightly of Gilbert Blythe. Even against Marilla’s advice. After that, she hadn’t been one to keep stuff, always living with the bare minimum, trying to detach the memories from the things. She feared going through the same thing again.

So now she was just traveling with a small carry on and her backpack with her computer and her kindle. Reviewing one last time the check-out process in her phone, she closed the door to her room, slipped the key under the door and turned to exit the building. She took a deep breath. Ten years she had managed to avoid him. Even with all of Diana’s machinations, Ruby’s insistence and even Cole’s encouragement, she had been able to not see him.

Only in the dark of night when she stalked his instagram and then deleted her search history, as to not be ashamed in the morning for her weakness.

Her phone buzzed again.

**Gil (19:33): Honda Civic. Dark red. Just on the front of the building. Take your time.

She would survive this. She was an adult, and even if he had managed to look even better each passing year, she would be able to separate his looks from everything else, as nothing good had ever come of befriending Gilbert Blythe. Only a couple of days and then they could go and be strangers again. Forever, hopefully. Wrapping her scarf to cover as much of her face as possible, just so he couldn’t see her, not because she was following any advice, she went out.

Turning after closing the door of the building, she was faced with Gilbert Blythe. Who was staring at her with an expression she could not pinpoint, so hidden it was beneath a facemask and so inescrutable his eyes. He was just so surprised to see her, even if he was there to pick her up. Like, real Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, flesh and blood, in front of him for the first time in a decade. She seemed slim under her coat. Her face… was mostly covered. He couldn’t see her hair from where he was and was actually praying she didn’t dye it. 

Anne was studying him as well, just trying to do it discreetly. It seemed like they were some kind of animals, a predator and his food. Only who was holding which role, was lost to her. He did not look anything like his last picture from instagram from over three years back. He looked tired, with a stubble that made itself known on the sides where the mask didn’t reach, bags in his eyes and oh so very sexy. Even in those horrible doctor scrubs. She felt herself turn red and thanked the combination of scarf and woolen beanie that covered most of her face. He was waiting out of his car, the trunk open, looking as uncomfortable as she felt. Damn Diana. Something on his hand.

“Hey,” she said, walking over, trying to sound unaffected. He met her and took the carry-on. 

“Hey, Anne. Long time, no see. Is this all?” he asked, putting her bag on the trunk. A bit impressed with her lack of luggage. Wasn’t she supposedly moving from the west coast? She nodded and he closed it, walking to the drivers’ door. He was not about to ask for details. He passed her the mask and thermometer he had picked up on the way. She looked at him, frowning. “This is for you. I’m really sorry, because I know they’re uncomfortable and all, but I work with very immunosuppressed people and shouldn’t take more risks than necessary. Please, take your temperature for the next two weeks? Should you have fever we can figure it out from there.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, not wanting to bare her face in front of him. Not yet. The thermometer she could use for as long as he wanted, she could do that in exchange for his guestroom. No problem there.

“Dead serious,” he said.

“Can’t I just leave the scarf on?” she asked. He considered it for a second. She did have several layers of thickly knit wool in front of her nore.

“For when you take it off, then. Ok, let’s go. Hungry? We can grab some take away on our way.” She got up on the passenger seat and felt her heart skip a beat. His car smelled so much like him it was like being transported to 2010. She put her scarf closer to her nose to try to escape the foreign familiarity and ground herself. He breathed again when he saw a hint of a braid in between all the wool from her scarf and the beanie. “Anne? Dinner?”

“Oh, right. Sorry. Yes, whatever you want” she said dismissively. “Just. I don't eat…”

“You’ve been vegetarian since middle school. I know. Unless something has changed?” he cut her. He seemed tense. She could tell by the way his jaw clenched. She shook her head. “Are you sure you’re leaving that scarf on? The car is warm.” He just wanted to see her face, honestly, but was not about to ask. He had a thousand questions in his mind. What had she done to lose her job? How come she had no savings? Why did she have only the tiniest luggage if she was moving all through the country?

“I’m fine” she mumbled, looking out of the window, her nose in the familiar wool. She couldn’t get herself to breathe all the gilbertness in the car. He didn’t answer and they continued in silence for most of the way. He tried turning on the radio, thinking the Spotify playlist he had on before might be a tad too sensitive of a choice right now (it was plagued with songs from their high school years), but at that moment they were playing one of their high school songs and he turned it off again, cursing mentally. Maybe Spotify would have been safer, he could skip songs seamlessly there. Too many memories.  _ Do the Panic _ by Phantom Planet was too much right now.

“There’s a great Indian place that has take-out. Sounds good?” she shrugged, looking at her phone. He sighed.

“Yeah. Indian. Yummy,” she answered vaguely when she felt his eyes on him.

**Anne S-C (20:04): I will kill you Diana. You just wait. I. Will. Kill. You.

**Bosom friend (20:12): I’m doing you a favour.

**Anne S-C (20:12): I fail to see that. It’s the most uncomfortable I’ve been in ever. I don’t even know how to talk to him. I don’t know how to exist next to him. And he’s uber paranoid. Got me a mask and a thing to check my temperature.

**Bosom friend (20:13): for starters, get off your phone. And talk. Never killed anyone. Ask something about the weather, where he lives… And he’s been like that since always. Just follow what he says. You know how over-cautious he is.

**Anne S-C (20:13): I can’t do small talk with Gilbert Blythe, Diana. I’d rather be silent. Just. Is he married? I never knew. 

**Bosom friend (20:14): Of course he isn’t. He’s never even considered. Why do you ask?

**Anne S-C (20:14): Ring on his finger?

**Bosom friend (20:14): Just a token he chooses to wear because he’s a sap 🙄 Don’t pay attention to that. I promise I didn’t put you in a married man’s house. Wouldn’t do that to you. 

“Let me pay for this. You went to pick me up, after all,” she insisted when he was about to pay in the restaurant. He looked at her, about to protest, but seemed to surrender himself and passed her the terminal. They received their paper bags and continued until Gilbert turned to the parking on a low-rise building.

“It’s not…. very organized. I apologize. Had I known, I would have done something” he said as they walked down a corridor.

“Don’t worry. I’m sorry to impose. It was really unnecessary, I still had tonight at the airbnb and the roaches were starting to become fr..” she caught herself joking, and stopped mid-sentence, uncomfortable, looking anywhere but in his direction. She couldn’t joke with him. It still hurt. It was still raw. After all these years. She felt him tense at her silence.

“Code for the door is 0305. Well, welcome home,” he said, ignoring her comment as he opened the door and turned on the light. She tried very hard to convince herself that the code was a coincidence and in no means related to her birthday.

He went in and took off his shoes, leaving them on the rack beside the door. Anne followed him and started undoing the laces of her boots. He closed the door as he waited for her. She looked at him, uncomfortable. Being in his house she felt even more self-conscious than she had in the car. They were only at the threshold and everything screamed Gilbert Blythe in the place. She finally took off her scarf and beanie and he felt the air leave him. That’s how beautiful she was even when she didn’t mean to. He forced himself to react as she dutifully put the mask he had given. 

“I’ll give you the tour. I’m sorry it’s not much. So, here’s the entrance. Kitchen is straight here, feel free to look around for anything you need,” he walked a couple of steps and turned on a light, small, clean straight kitchen that ended on an island. He walked over there and she followed him. “Breakfast bar…” he turned to the right and turned another light on. “Dining room,” he motioned over the table and then turned, adding “living room. I’ll be sleeping on the sofa,” he explained when they passed in front. Anne had to stop him there.

“No, Gilbert. I’m… I came here unannounced and uninvited. I’ll get the sofa.”

“My house, my rules,” he said, referencing a very old saying they had in high school whenever they couldn’t agree on the way to do something. Whoever’s house they were in, won. She sighed.

“We’re not sixteen anymore,” she countered. He looked at her, turning, his eyes with an unreadable expression.

“Believe me, I am aware,” he answered finally, voice tight. She did not look sixteen anymore. Then again, neither did he. Would she ever give him a second look? How she ever managed to maintain her stubbornness was beyond him. “Anyway. I’ll sleep on the sofa and that’s final. Here we turn and get to the entry again. Down here, bathroom, use whatever you need. That goes for anything in the house, you don’t have to ask,” he entered to wash his hands and Anne followed him after he sent her a stern look. It wasn’t so small it felt cramped, but they were closer than they had in years. She tried not to focus on his smell but in his methodical hand-washing pattern. She was sure it was not that he drowned in perfume or anything, he just had always had the most particular and exquisite scent and her mind had hidden the memory. Until now. They got out of the bathroom. “Washer and dryer are in this closet,” he opened a door and closed it when Anne nodded. “Bedroom's here. I’ll change the sheets for you, but let’s eat first” he said. His bedroom looked so nice. So… manly, but peaceful, even with the undone bed and the pile of dirty clothes next to it. A dresser close to the window, full of framed pictures she couldn’t detail in the dark.

“Gilbert, I’m not sleeping on your bed,” she declared, her voice firm. She was seething. He looked at her. “I don’t care about your rules. I will not sleep on your bed. That’s what is final” 

“Anne, be rational. I have the weirdest schedules and won’t have you sleeping on the sofa when I barge in at four in the morning to prepare coffee. That’s why, it’s not that I don’t believe you can sleep there,” he answered, his voice equally harsh. Anne looked at him, frowning, as unhappy as she could be. Plus, he hated to admit this, but she would be more isolated if she was already sick.

“I don’t mind being woken up.”

“Yes, and I am Billie Andrews, pleasure to meet you,” he answered sarcastically. She sighed in frustration, a thousand remarks coming to the front of her mind but biting them all. She knew she was being difficult enough when he was being hospitable, but she just felt so confused and uncomfortable about every single thing. She couldn’t stomach sleeping there. She didn’t want to think how many women had been there. She didn’t even want to smell his pillows. Maybe she could sleep with the scarf? Gilbert saw her resolve diminish and tried not to smile victoriously. “Come, let’s eat.”

Gilbert showed her where to find the things in the kitchen. She didn’t comment when she saw he still had the mug they’ve bought when traveling to Halifax with the school. She had had a similar one, only she threw it after the bonfire. Along with all the other things that reminded her of him. The mug was not the only thing: there were a thousand memories in the things in his apartment that seemed to scream to her. How could he live like this? How could he not care? Weren’t the memories hurtful to him? She felt her heart ache when she saw each one.

They sat on the table, Gilbert on one side and her on the other, as far as they could, still in tense silence. Each eating a different dish. For her, some chickpeas in a curry sauce with potatoes. For him, some chicken something. She hadn’t really paid attention when he ordered. But everything was yummy. The vegetable samosas were perfect. When they were done with their dishes, neither moved.

“Look, Anne. I know this is… not what we had in mind. Not for today, not for ever,” Gilbert finally said, his voice resigned. They might as well be honest. She kept looking at the tea in her mug. “But that’s not to mean I’m not glad to be able to offer you this space. Stay as long as you need. I don’t mind.”

“I do,” she mumbled. He sighed again. He had so many things to discuss with her, but was well aware it was not the best night to do so.

“I… don’t know how much you know about what’s happening, Anne” he tried, because he felt that Anne thought this was a thing of a night or two. She looked at him, confused. “With the pandemic?” she nodded and gave him some vague facts. “Ok, so you have an idea. Good. It’s just… at the hospital, we really think it’s going to get much, much worse. We’ve had over 20 cases this month only. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but take into account this thing was discovered not three months ago. This is only the beginning, and I don’t want you to get false expectations. I really doubt PEI is opening the borders next week. It’s an island and bound to take advantage of that fact to prevent more spread. I actually believe we’re on the verge of going into lockdown here in Ontario” Anne looked at him, stunned. She had not been expecting that. “Do you still have health insurance?”

“Well, the B.C. one, it expires in two or three months. But I believe it only covers me there. I was planning on applying to PEI’s again.” she answered, dumbfounded.

“Shit. We need to get you coverage. Or private insurance,” Gilbert tapped the table impatiently as he thought.

“Gilbert, you’re scaring me,” she said. Because he really was. He ignored her for a moment and looked for something in his phone. Well, there was no way of her applying to Ontario’s unless she had a proof of address. He would check with the hospital for a private one in the meantime. 

**Fred (21:26): How’s the making up going? 😉

Gilbert looked at the notification and shook his head. What was Fred expecting, exactly? It’s not like they were being kept apart against their will and were going to have senseless sex after their reunion. They had been actively avoiding each other for ten years.

**Gilbert Blythe (21:27): Don’t you get any ideas on your dirty mind, Fred. This is as tense and uncomfortable as I thought it would be. I need ideas to get her insured, she only has provincial from BC.

**Fred (21:26): Well, marry her. Done. 

“Gilbert!”

“Sorry. I’m trying to think of something. I’ll speak to the hospital tomorrow, see what we can do.”

“I honestly don’t think it’s that urgent,” she said.

“I don’t think you get it, Anne. It is a serious disease. People are dying. Have you seen the news, how Italy and Spain are right now? You’ve been in plenty of risky places as it is and you haven’t protected yourself. I need to be sure you will be safe and be properly cared of if you get sick.”

“You don’t have to take care of me!” Anne exclaimed, furious. Gilbert looked at her, livid.

“I don’t  _ have _ to, but I always will,” he said earnestly, an eerie fury in him. Why was she so difficult? 

“Funny way you’ve had to show it!” she yelled at him, suddenly channeling her seventeen-year-old self. He was about to answer, but she didn’t give him any chance. She had so much to get out of her system but was trying so hard to stay shut. She was at his place, after all. But she could lock herself down. Take advantage of having to stay in his room. She could even pass it as self-isolating, he had given her a mask and something to measure fever, for god's sake.

She got up from the table and went to his room, closing the door loudly. Realizing she had left her carry-on next to the door she growled loudly. Gilbert was still seated, not knowing if saying anything would just make the situation worse. Then he heard the door open and he saw her go for her bag, and then walk quickly back again. Gilbert sighed. He waited for a while and then decided to go to his bedroom door. He knocked lightly, but didn’t open.

“As a suggestion, you could take a shower and I can change the sheets while you do that,” he tried. Today was not the day to talk, he tried to think. He heard a grumble or something and knew she was still mad. Of course she would be. Her comment showed all the resentment he knew she had, and that was not going away just like that. He figured they would have many more conversations, or discussions, before she ever could talk normally to him again. If it ever happened. He rested his forehead in the door and waited for a moment. “Or you can sleep in my sheets, if you don’t mind and prefer not seeing me again. I only changed them yesterday so they’re technically clean,” he said. Still nothing. He cursed mentally in frustration and pressed his forehead against the door, clenching his fists. How she was so stubborn was beyond him. “Look, I’m sorry if I said something to offend you. I just don’t know how to live and not take care of you if you are around. Please, when you change into your pajamas leave your clothes out here so I can put them in the washer with mine, I think the precaution wouldn’t be too much. Good night.” He left the door, clenching his jaw. 

Anne was sitting on the floor of his bedroom. Scared to go to the bed and coward enough not to open the door.  _ I just don’t know how to live and not take care of you if you are around. _ What did he mean by that? He couldn’t possibly care for her. Not after all these years. Not when he had… She looked for her phone, trying to distract her mind. It would not do her any good to keep ruminating on long lost hopes.

**Anne S-C (22:08): So guess where I am.

**Cole (22:10): Your crappy airbnb?

**Anne S-C (22:10): Gilbert’s place. Hamilton.

**Cole (22:10): WTF?! 😱😱😱

**Anne S-C (22:10): Diana set me up. She likes to see me suffer 😓 I think all these years she has hated me secretly and now she’s found a way to express it. 😭 I need help. I don't know how to be here. 

**Cole (22:10): You do know. You do what you have wanted to do for ten years and fuck him. And then you both can be happy persons again, you get to be a couple, the gang will be able to breathe and stop tip-toeing and then we all have a happily ever after.

**Anne S-C (22:11): Not funny. You’re not helping. Plus, he’s hotter. When did he get hotter? Why? Just to torment me when I got stranded at his house? 😭😭😭

**Cole (22:11): When he finished med school and started working out. Not that you would know. And I don’t think that was the purpose of it. So, how’s it going there?

**Anne S-C (22:11): Bad, of course. I already yelled at him and now I’m locked up in his room, with his smelly sheets.

**Cole (22:11): What? Smelly sheets?

**Anne S-C (22:11): Everything smells like him. Like his unique scent. The one I told you drives me crazy?

**Cole (22:12): You’re mental. Well take advantage, woman, and sleep in that bed. 

**Anne S-C (22:12): Please don’t tell anyone about the smelly sheets. Or his smell. You’re the only one I trusted with that. Not even D.

**Cole (22:12): Safe with me. Now to bed, Anne. Apologize tomorrow 😘

**Anne S-C (22:13): Or any day in the foreseeable future, as he thinks I won’t be able to leave his house or Ontario for weeks.

**Cole (22:14): Don’t want to scare you, Nana, but it is getting bad. There’s talk about extending the closure of the island’s borders and I heard they declared a state of emergency in Ontario.

**Anne S-C (22:14): Shit. I don’t want to live with Gilbert Blythe, Cole.

**Cole (22:14): It’s your best bet for now. I don’t see you travelling any time soon. Plus, he’s a doctor. Plus, I’m pretty sure he won’t charge you anything for the rent so you won’t starve. And, you’ve wanted him since forever. Now get into bed and sleep. Roy says hi.

She got up reluctantly and considered sleeping on the floor. Only she would need the blankets and then the point would be lost. She looked around, maybe he had some kind of cushions? But there were only two pillows, hunched together. There was no way or telling which one would be less him. She sighed and opened her suitcase, looking for her pajamas. Of all things to have when stranded with Gilbert Blythe, of course she had to have only some shorts and the camisole Marilla had sewn when she was a teen and she insisted on wearing despite the white fabric being kind of transparent more than fifteen years later. She left the bundle of dirty laundry out the door, as Gilbert had said, and locked the door again.

When she got into the covers, she couldn’t help but be transported back to Avonlea, when she used to sleep at his place so often. The familiar scent, the softness of the sheets, everything seemed so close to her heart but still so painful. She closed her eyes, determined to go through the night. 

Meanwhile, Gilbert went to the linen closet, where the washer and dryer were, and took out a second warm duvet and some sheets. Organizing the sofa bed, he turned on the tv and tried to distract himself. Only he couldn’t. He had not seen Anne in ten years but he also felt like he had seen her yesterday. He knew most major facts about her life, as he could never help asking Diana, Cole and the rest of the gang about her. She was even more beautiful than she was when they were teens. How, he couldn’t even understand, because for him it was impossible to improve something that was already perfect. Yet here she was, proving him wrong. On top of everything she was sexy as hell. How come she was still single? How did he agree to call her at Diana’s request? Why? Was he a masochist? He was just so weak. 

**Diana (22:05): Sooo? 🤩

**Gilbert Blythe (22:06): Still hates me. I’m going to bed, Di.

He felt as disheartened as he thought he would be. He needed to think better before impulsively doing anything just because it had Anne in it. He had finally been doing reasonably well without her. Maybe… tomorrow would be better? At least he would have the evening shift, so he would be able to escape the house for a while. And he had to shop for groceries in the morning, what he had in his pantry would not do for her. He hoped she was comfortable in his room, he knew for a fact he had a nice mattress. An idea crossed his mind but he dismissed it immediately.

He still went and picked her laundry, putting it directly in the washer with his scrubs and starting the machine immediately, then washing his hands. Probably he was being paranoid, but he preferred to err on the side of caution. He went back to the sofa and tried to distract himself and ignore the ever growing idea.

When Gilbert saw the sliver under his door go dark, he waited for a while, still trying to get the thought out of his mind. He went to prepare a cup of chamomile and still debated with himself. Trying to distract himself from what he wanted to do and to see reason. He was a responsible adult. He was not about to… well, just a peek to see if she was ok or needed something would be fine, right?

He went as quietly as he could, still struggling with what he thought was right and what he wanted. He waited still a moment and then opened the door slowly. There she was. The pillow oddly wrapped in her scarf (why?) her hair going everywhere. With the low light from the hallway, he still could make out her features, peaceful for once in her sleep. Before he noticed, he was in front of her, watching her breathe softly and thinking everything was already as bad as it could get, decided there was no harm in taking the hair off her face. He caressed her cheek softly with the back of his hand.

“Sleep tight, Anne-girl,” he mumbled before going back to the door and closing it behind him with a sigh. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On an end note, please take care of yourself. We're in this together. We're all tired of this. We feel you. But if we've gone about nine months like this, couldn't we go for a bit longer?
> 
> Many places around the world are in lockdown or going back to lockdown or taking measures in different ways. Some of you who read are from Belgium, from Argentina, and from even more places. Please, take care of you, your loved ones and the grandparents of the people you don't even know. Wear a facemask even when it's uncomfortable and keep some sensible distance away. Do as Gilbert says: a face covering and a hockey stick lenght apart. It was the actual measure they were giving around here, and it's a good mental image (Gilbert skating with his new stick, anyone?).
> 
> Anyway! Enjoy your weekend. Leave a comment if you're so inclined (we read them all, we are overjoyed by them all), and we'll see you next week.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> We're here again for our weekly installment of our favorite characters dealing with 2020. As a good news for you, we're going to publish more often. We know many of you are in a lockdown of some sort, and would like to put our little something to make it more amenable, within what's possible.
> 
> Playlist for today (we know some of you like them!):  
> https://link.tospotify.com/JSFTaF4xMbb
> 
> As always, we thank you for all your excitement and comments. Every one of them makes our day!

Next morning, Anne woke up disoriented. Had that been a dream? Or Gilbert had entered the room and touched her hair? Was she dreaming again of him talking softly to her? God, she was done with that. She thought by now she was over it. Ugh. At least it hadn’t been a new nightmare.

She had gone to sleep with her scarf wrapping his pillow, trying to avoid Gilbert’s smell, to no avail. She woke up with the scarf on the ground, and hugging a soft pillow, nose buried all the way, frankly unsettling dreams of him. The most wonderful memories of her teenage years at the… what?

She sat up confused and looked around. Her carry-on opened, her kindle in a foreign nightstand on top of _Emerging Applications of Molecular Imaging to Oncology_ (god, that looked boring). She stood up, feeling like an intruder in Gilbert’s room. She knew she would have never allowed him to get even _close_ to her room. Too personal. Too transparent. Way too intimate. And yet there she was, in his territory he had willingly opened to her.

She walked around and went to his dresser over the window. It was barely light outside, dark clouds announcing yet another rainy day. He had several framed pictures. One with Bash, Mary and some little girl. Were they parents now? Then some with their classmates in outings she hadn’t attended (she always checked if he was going before confirming) and others with people she had no idea who they were (university friends? colleagues? they all wore those horrible medical scrubs).

And then.

One of the pictures they had taken before graduation. Before everything went to hell and resulted in them not speaking to each other. Why would he still have that, framed, next to what were obviously good memories? It didn’t make sense. She grabbed the frame, remembering that day. They were fooling around with Cole, Diana and Ruby. Not having much to do at school those days after the exams, they played during recess with a digital camera Diana had gotten for her birthday. Anne had made flower crowns with the wildflowers that grew that time of the year around the soccer field and in this picture Gilbert appeared hugging her from behind, proudly sporting a very nicely done crown. His smile was still as contagious as it was back then. She actually looked happy.

She left the picture in its place and sighed. There were so many things that were left unsaid. She didn’t want to think beyond that, not to have any false hope. She grabbed her hoodie again and put it over her t-shirt. She opened the door and peered out, looking down the corridor to what she could see of the living room. The sofa was… a sofa, which meant he was probably up. And a delicious coffee and toasted bread smell made its way towards her. She couldn’t help but smile. She went to the kitchen and stood at the door, looking as Gilbert buttered a piece of toast. He looked up almost immediately and was relieved to see she hadn’t forgotten the mask.

“Morning, Anne. Did you sleep well?” he asked, tentatively. He did hope she wasn’t awake the night before when he had gone to check on her. She nodded. “There’s coffee done. Milk in the fridge. Want some toast?” she walked over to get the milk while Gilbert put out a mug for her. She tried to remember the cabinet he opened, for next time. Last night she hadn’t really paid any attention.

“Thanks, yes.” They sat in the dining room again, again as far apart as they could, and finally took off their masks and ate. Gilbert had some latin music on, on a low volume, and it was the only thing that prevented an absolute silence. He hummed softly along _Deseo_ , by Jorge Drexler, as he went through his motions. She felt bad about her outburst the night before, but didn’t know how to breach the subject. She did have to apologize, Cole was right. She looked at her now cold coffee, bracing herself. “I’m sorry about last night,” she finally said, not daring to look at him.

“Don’t worry. I understand. This... it’s… not something either of us expected,” he said gently after a moment, surprised by the gesture. She nodded. “Look, I’m sorry as well. I’m just… on my nerves with this whole situation and maybe I’m overly jumpy,” he admitted. She looked at him, questioning. “It’s… as I told you yesterday, it’s bad. It’s risky. It’s… apparently more contagious than what we thought and spreading so fast. We don’t even understand it yet and there’s nothing that works to cure it. I may be biased because my patients are immunosuppressed almost by definition, but I just don’t want you to get sick.” She nodded. She had to acknowledge; he had the upper hand here. She knew what little she read of the news (and she never read much). He apparently worked in a freaking hospital. Successful Gilbert Blythe. Which is why she was reluctantly following his rules.

“I understand. I’ll be more careful.”

“I’d rather you didn’t get much out of the house, to be honest. At least until I can get hold of some more face coverings for you,” he said, looking at her with an expression that looked almost apologetic. She sighed. “I know they are saying they’re only for frontline workers and that there’s no evidence on how much they protect. But the fact with most respiratory diseases is that they do, at least to some degree. So it’s better to give them the benefit of doubt.”

“Ok, so I won’t go out much without a mask. Just for walks away from people. Would that be alright?” He nodded. He wouldn’t oppose walks. 

“There’s a trail not too far from here. I’m sure you can find it on google maps,” he suggested, knowing her love of nature. “Just keep a hockey stick length away from other people.”

“Great. That’d be good. How long do I have to wear one here?”

“Two weeks. Just so we both know you don’t have anything. Have you taken your temperature?”

“36.6º,” she said. She had actually made a point on remembering the number because she knew he would ask. He nodded. “Have you seen any news? I haven’t checked since yesterday when I spoke with Diana and she called you…”

“Europe is getting worse. Especially Italy and Spain. I don’t even know if that can be considered something newsworthy anymore... New York closed restaurants, schools and I don’t know what else. Ontario’s Premier declared a state of emergency yesterday. There’s been shortages of some foods in some areas and, ridiculously, of toilet paper. The people in the States seem to believe they’re living an apocalypse movie and are behaving accordingly. PEI announced its closing of all of the island’s points of entry until further notice. They have managed to avoid most cases and, understandably, want to continue that way before they have to consider shutting down schools. It’s bad, Anne.”

“Shit. There goes my plan of being in PEI before the end of the month.”

“I’m sorry. I understand this is… not the place you would have chosen to spend the next few weeks. But please, make yourself at home. What I said yesterday holds true: I’m glad I can give you this space and there is no rush for you to go, especially with the current state of things. I’m not around for most of the day because I have to go to the hospital, so feel free to do as you wish. We just wear the mask when around each other. Just please, stay safe. Stay here.”

“Thanks, Gil,” she said without thinking, and then bit her lips as she realized the nickname. Gilbert stayed silent; tension, longing and unease between them. He finally got up because he couldn’t stand it anymore, taking the dishes and empty mugs and loading them on the dishwasher.

“Anyway. I should get going. I just wanted to ask you, before I make any mess. Are you telling people about this?”

“Only Diana and Cole. I’d rather…”

“Keep it quiet?” he asked. He actually didn’t want to tell anyone. Because in the case this… experiment, for lack of better words, didn’t work out, then he wouldn’t have any explaining to do. And he was pretty sure it would not work, sad as it made him. If she was stubborn enough to hold a grudge for a decade, she wasn’t about to let it go in a month.

“Yes. Unless…?”

“Quiet is good, Anne. I was thinking along the same line,” he confirmed and she nodded, relieved. She didn’t want anyone to know about how she, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, jobless public school teacher and failure by all means, had ended up living with successful doctor Gilbert Blythe. He stood up, mask on again. “I’m going to buy some groceries, there’s not much for you around the house, and then I go to the hospital.”

“Should I go with you?” she didn’t actually want to spend time with him, but then again, she wanted to have something to eat and for some reason didn’t trust him with that. He looked at her, midway to the door.

“Don’t worry. Text me anything you want, I’ll do my best. I’m actually hoping that what a nurse told me is true and I can skip the line in the supermarket with my hospital ID, so it’s better I go alone. Nothing has changed much on your diet?” he asked from the door as he put on his shoes and coat.

“No, still the same. I just try to buy organic when I can.” He nodded and then he was gone.

And she was now alone. She stayed put for a moment, feeling again like an intruder, but finally gave up. If she was going to spend a couple of weeks there, she might as well get acquainted with her surroundings. She walked around the living room, stopping to see the library. Mostly full of medical textbooks, as she expected, but many as well on different science topics. On the low corner, their yearbook. She ignored it. More things she didn’t feel like reviving.

She went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. There wasn’t much, honestly. A couple of milk bags, some eggs, a very old wrinkly carrot. Take-away boxes, ham and cheese. Some sausage. Opening the freezer, frozen pizzas and microwave dinners. The pantry wasn’t much better, with canned ravioli and beans.

Going back to the room, she looked around in her carry-on. She had expected to arrive today at PEI, and had only packed three changes of clothes, because her boxes were meant to arrive at Diana's house around the same time she did. She sighed. She had one clean t-shirt and that was it. Her phone buzzed.

**Gil (9:34): So? Anything from the supermarket?

**Anne S-C (9:35): Some tofu and tempeh? Maybe beans and lentils? Not the canned ones, yuck. And real veggies, please. You only have plastic food here. You’re a doctor and have sausages?

**Gil (9:35): I don’t have time nor skills to cook.

**Anne S-C (9:36): I do. Buy real stuff, I’ll do the cooking. Anything you see minus dead animals.

He didn’t answer. But she thought it was something she could do. Cook something. He obviously had a terrible diet, if his fridge was anything to go by. She enjoyed cooking. Seemed like a fair trade for him letting her sleep here. And somehow it was easier to text him than to talk to him. 

**Anne S-C (9:40): Flour and yeast!! Your bread is horrid 🤢 Tastes like plastic. Marilla would be scandalized.

The next few days they found a way to live with each other. Mostly not speaking, Anne holed up in his room reading in her kindle as soon as she knew his shift would end. Leaving lovely home cooked meals for him in the microwave for when he got home from the hospital but avoiding eating with him.

When the restaurants closed and it was evident everyone would have to bring whatever food they ate, he had bought some ready-made stuff. Anne had sent him a text stating everything that was wrong with the things he bought and started leaving him food prepared in containers for each day, complete with snacks. And dessert, even. Gilbert didn’t know what to think about the lunches she packed for him. He was immensely grateful, of course, and everything was just yummy, but he didn’t know how to explain the change to his colleagues, more used to him bringing take-away or some sort of frozen thing. Fred was actually having a field day. Even the nurses noticed the difference and he tried to be vague when they asked.

**Ruby @ Avongang (13:23): @Anne! Did you find a place to stay? I’m still asking but apparently we are all islanders 🥺 …

**Anne S-C @ Avongang (13:34): You’re a darling, Rubs. We actually found an old acquaintance and it’s kind of working.

**Cole @ Avongang (13:35): Kind of working? 😍 Give all the details!!

**Anne S-C (13:36): As in, we’re both alive, Cole. 😑 I don’t speak to him. He doesn’t speak to me. Don’t tease on that group or I will find a way to torture you from here. I have Roy’s number. 

**Josie @Avongang (13:40): Do we know them?

**Anne S-C @ Avongang (13:42): @Cole, they’re acquaintances. Try living with someone you didn’t know in person. @Josie No, I don’t think so. Marilla’s friend's son, I think. Weird thing is I still have their number.

**Tillie @Avongang (13:43): Send us pictures!!

**Anne S-C @ Avongang (13:44): Yeah, sure.

Only of course she didn’t and silenced the chat for some hours.

“So tell me, Blythe, how is this new life with mythical Anne? Will I ever get to meet her?” Fred asked him when not even a week had gone by since Anne’s arrival. Gilbert’s ears turned very red and his hand went straight to the nape of his neck as he remembered the very uncomfortable experience of the morning. “Blythe! What’s going on?” Fred asked him, trying to contain his laughter, “Why, if you look like a teen!”

“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s too appalling,” he answered. Because if he told Fred, then he would never live it down. They were, as usual, spending what little free time they had in the Timmies next to the hospital.

“Now you have to tell. That’s not a way to keep shut, that’s just your subconscious telling me directly you want to get it out. So out with it, it can’t be that bad.”

“Does… Ella washes her underthings in the bathroom?” he asked Fred, a cautious voice. It was his first time in his life sharing the bathroom with a woman and it was getting weird.

“Well… why would… yes, but why does… Oh no, seriously?!” Fred connected the dots as he spoke and laughed even more than before. “So you’re drowning in her things?!”

“No! Just today! It was this little… Anyway, other than that, everything is going as tense as you could imagine, and this experience only added to it. I don’t even know who was more uncomfortable. Talk to me about Bear?” Gilbert tried changing the subject again, mortified.

“I’m not telling you anything about my dog until you tell me the whole story. Spill. Now I just want to know out of pure evil curiosity because I hadn’t seen you like this in the ten years I’ve known you,” Fred was looking at him, a mix of happiness and tease.

“Are you serious?” Gilbert exclaimed, stunned. 

“Yes! For goodness sake, Blythe, yes! I want to know everything! I want to enjoy seeing you up in a knot over the woman who is finally back in your life! Tell on!”

“Geez, calm down. It’s not like it is the first time…”

“It is. And you know it. The ones from university were just a mere pastime and replacement for you and none of them did the cut,” Fred insisted. “Spill,” he added, dragging on the word.

“Oh well, if you must. But you’re as gossipy as a thirteen-year-old.”

“I’ve always been. You know it. What’s more, you love it.”

“Well then. I don’t love it. But here you have your story. Don’t go around repeating it, ok?” he looked at Fred, trying to convey some seriousness as to how mortified he was by all the events, but Fred’s cheeky grin didn’t budge.

“As if I would ever with anything you tell me,” Fred rolled his eyes.

“So. I finished showering. I was dressed, mind you, but opened the bathroom door just to let the steam out, you know how the ventilation sucks at my place?” Fred nodded, “So I dried my hair, door open, waiting for the mirror to defog because I had to shave.”

“Which you didn’t.”

“Which I didn’t, yes. And then I went to grab my dirty laundry to put it on the dumpster… And this tiny, lacy black thing fell to the floor. So I picked it up,” his ears were red again. Fred gasped. Gilbert’s hand went to his nape and Fred slapped it.

“You didn’t!”

“I did! I didn’t know what it was!” Gilbert excused himself, blushing again as he had done in the morning. “Just then, Anne appears asking about… I don’t even remember, some kitchen thing, and stands on the door, as red as I have to be right now,” because he felt his face blush and feel hot. His neck was hot as well. He scratched it. Fred slapped his hand again. “And she’s just _Give me that!_ and takes the… thingy and locks herself up. I left the place as soon as I could,” he finished, covering his face with both hands but by then Fred was laughing so hard he was not paying attention anymore.

Fred looked at him when he was finally calming, and just started again. Gilbert drank his coffee, ignoring him. He still felt so uncomfortable about that morning it didn’t make sense. It was underwear. It was obvious she was bound to wear something. Normal! Nothing to overthink. But god, how would she look clad in only that?! He felt his blush coming back and with it, tears accompanied Fred’s laughs.

“I’m so sorry, Blythe. I just…” he laughed again. “My tummy hurts and it’s your fault!”

“It’s not, it’s your own for laughing at my misery! She wasn’t talking to me before, she won’t ever, not after this. Gosh, how did I mess up like that? Anything more I should be aware of? You’ve been living with Ella forever,” he said, when Fred finally was somewhat calm.

“Ella and I are different from you and Anne. I don’t mind finding her stuff around, I don’t even notice it. But god, Blythe, you made my day. You are practically thirty on the outside, but inside, you’re just fifteen,” he said, finally composing himself.

“I might as well be. This is ridiculous. Not even a week into this arrangement and I am a mess,” Gilbert acquiesced, rubbing his eyes, still mortified. Fred gave him a pat on the back.

“You’ll get there, Blythe. If anything, enjoy that she’s so close. Think of a way to get her out of her room. Wearing only…” 

“Wright! Time to stop, now!” Gilbert interrupted him as he went into another fit of laughter. “As much as I am glad to provide your entertainment, can we change the subject? Tell me about Bear, now. Please? You had your story and all?”

They found a routine of silent morning coffee as the world seemed to fall apart around them and the restrictions got stricter with each passing day. Eventually, they stopped using the mask around the house, when it was evident that Anne didn’t have the virus. Not long after she arrived, a strict lockdown was imposed and it was no longer a possibility to go on walks, that had been the only thing keeping her sane. Even Gilbert hadn’t been able to oppose them, as long as she didn’t mingle or went into stores.

Diana wrote to her a couple of times, but Anne decided to just ignore her for the moment. She was still mad about the whole set-up. But she needed something to do with her time, and Cole was right: she could pick up her old projects and write. She decided to write to Kak’wet, see if she still wanted to pursue the idea they had had some years ago.

> _From:_ _anne_shirleycuthbert@gmail.com_
> 
> _To:_ _kakwet1990@hotmail.com_
> 
> _Subject: Life is hard. And an idea._
> 
> _My dearest kindred spirit!_
> 
> _Life has been so incredibly unexpected these past few weeks. I wrote you desperately needing a place to stay and guess where I ended in the end? At Gilbert Blythe’s house! You might not remember him, but remember the friend I had in highschool, whom I loved desperately but… Anyway, I’m pretty sure you know who he is. So I’m somehow his roommate, only I’m locked here and he gets to go out (to work, but still)._
> 
> _I have way too much time on my hands right now and thought about the project we talked about so many years ago. Do you remember? Maybe it could be time to start it? I mean, I understand if you are too busy, my dear friend, but I could start with the writing and then you could give me all the notes and corrections from you and your elders. With all due attributions, of course._
> 
> _Do you still have contacts in the organizations that care for the kids in the shelter system? I was thinking it could be an added benefit from the storybook if all the proceeds could go to a good cause. We both work for a living (well, I intend to do so again) and I am into this project more for the love of it than for any gain._
> 
> _Let me know what you think!_
> 
> _Love always,_
> 
> _Melkita’ulamun_

**Diana (22:39): Anne keeps ignoring me. I’m sure she’s mad. Please tell me it’s working out? 🥺 I’ll feel terrible if not 😢

Gilbert watched the message again. The night before he hadn’t known what to answer to Diana. How was this arrangement supposed to work out? He sipped some of his coffee, watching her cautiously. She was engrossed on her phone as well. Was she really ignoring her best friend?

**Gilbert Blythe (07:42): We drink coffee in silence in the morning. That is the extent of our interaction. So decide for yourself.

He was so not telling her about the underwear incident.

**Diana (07:43): Seriously, get your act together? 🙄

**Gilbert Blythe (07:44): Tell her that. I’m not the one locked down most of the time.

**Gilbert Blythe (07:44): It’s just hard, Di. I don’t know where you got the idea it would be easy. It’s not.

**Diana (07:45): Let me know if I can help?

**Gilbert Blythe (07:45): Please don’t? I’m already with enough in my hands to deal with anything else. Call you later? :*

“So… have you seen the news?” Gilbert asked tentatively, not knowing well how to reach the subject.

“I honestly just look for anything related to PEI,” she commented, her eyes still on her phone, her coffee going cold. They were having breakfast with some of the homemade bread she had done with the last of the yeast Gilbert had managed to get. She had a sourdough starter on the counter, crossing her fingers that it would work. Marilla had taught her years ago, but she hadn’t given the lessons a second thought at the moment.

“The news in Hamilton, Anne. Where you are staying now?” he insisted. She looked at him blankly. “They’re imposing a lockdown because it seems on the verge of getting out of control.”

“What do you mean, imposing a lockdown? How exactly would you call this?” she asked, annoyed. 

“Simple and sensible social distancing? I mean like strict lockdown, Anne. The kind where you get a fine if they catch you outside?” she looked at him, blinking. He could not be serious because she would positively go mental. “And believe me I know better than to make a joke about this subject.”

“You can’t be serious. They can’t do this, can they?” her eyes were wide as plates, some paleness other than the usual milky tone of her skin. She had a million thoughts cursing through her mind, trying to process the information and completely unable to do so. 

“Well, it’s already done. It starts tonight at midnight. You can’t get out unless it’s for groceries…”

“Which you get…” because so far, she only ever went to that wonderful trail. And that was supposed to stop?!

“Only because I do have a license, a car and they let me go inside quickly. You know that already. Anyway. Groceries and first need stuff. Medical emergencies. If you work in an essential business, for which they have a list, banking… and that’s pretty much it. Look for an article, they’re all over the place. You don’t even have to believe me.” 

“It’s just so unfair…” she mumbled, more to herself than to Gilbert, trying to think how she was going to exist in the small space of his apartment.

“Unfair? Anne, what’s unfair is that people are being irresponsible and then we have to look for a way to take care of everyone at the hospital. My patients are being denied surgeries they do need for a chance to get better because the policy now is to only make urgent surgeries, not anything that can be postponed. And cancer seems to be in the “to be postponed” category for the people who make the policies. So don’t talk about how unfair it is for you to not be able to go on a walk. There are worse things than that. You have a roof, you have food, you have some sense of stability because as I’ve told you before you can stay here indefinitely if you so wish to. So please, don’t talk about unfairness” he ranted. Because her comment almost makes him lose his temper. “You get to stay home and be safe. Which actually makes me happy. But please, don’t talk about fairness in this.”

**Gilbert Blythe (08:02): Forget it, just got worse. I can’t believe she keeps behaving like a child sometimes, after all these years.

**Diana (08:03): What?

**Gilbert Blythe (08:03): Nothing. I just needed to vent. 

Anne didn’t answer anything, at a loss of what to say, only watched him type frustratedly on his phone. She had not expected that. Being scolded by Gilbert Blythe made her feel tiny because she knew he was right most of the time. Because if not, he wouldn’t have said anything. She didn’t look for any article at that moment, because she thought it would be rude and she felt tiny and ashamed. And he was already in a bad mood after her comment. But she did as soon as he was out the door (no more words, not even a goodbye) and then she was outside not five minutes later to spend as much as she could in the fresh air before she was banned to do so.

That night she prepared dinner after Gilbert arrived. Only because she had come so late, she had had a shower and then he had been home before she had any chance. He didn’t speak much, looking worried and tired and trying to get out of her way. When he offered to help she snapped. He had just had a terrible day at the hospital, the first of his patients diagnosed with covid. They were trying to trace the contacts and then to test the rest of the floor. He had received a visit last week, when they were still allowed, and they were thinking that was the source. However, he was just worried about anyone else that had been in contact. They couldn’t have an outbreak in the hospital. Even less on the oncology floor.

“I’m sorry about this morning. It was… insensitive from me,” she commented when she went to the living room where he was trying, quite unsuccessfully, to read some light book. “Dinner is ready, for whenever you’re ready.”

“Anne. You don’t have to cook for me. Honestly,” he said, looking up.

“It’s the least I can do. And you need to eat some real food,” she said. 

“Ok. Thank you, really. And don’t worry about before. I’m… just stressed. It’s no excuse, but it is my only explanation. It must be hard to have to stay in a place that’s not even your own.” Anne saw his eyebrows knit together with what she knew was frustration and worry. She hated being able to read him so well after so much time.

They ate in silence after that and then watched the news. Immediately after, Anne washed what was left from dinner and excused herself. She still didn’t want to spend time with him. Gilbert watched her go, thinking of how he could do to open up a bit more. He had gotten glimpses at her in the past few weeks, and even when her essence was there, he could see how sad and conflicted she was. About what? He could only guess.

“Ok…” she answered, not really convinced. She remembered something suddenly. “I really can’t go out?”

“Well, in theory you can go to the grocery store and things like that, but they’re really not within walking distance. Not to the trail, I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t thinking about the trail,” she answered, a slight blush. Gilbert frowned.

“Then? Is there anything you need?” now she was really blushing. “Anne, it doesn’t really matter, if I can get it for you then I can go, it’s not a problem.”

“Tampons? Please? Regular?” she asked, looking at the floor. Well, that couldn’t be so hard. It was normal she would need something like that at some point. He relaxed. Tampons were easy.

**Carrots (16:34): Please remember the tampons? Regular. Please.

That was the text he received when he was on the way to check out. And he had actually forgotten. So he turned back and was now facing more choices of feminine products that he thought could exist. Regular? What brand? Scented? How could a tampon be scented, that sounded so counterintuitive… And what were those plastic thingies? He tried calling her but she didn’t answer, probably forgetting her phone on the other side of the house as she always did. Well, his logic told him she would prefer organic. He knew she always asked for the groceries to be organic if that was available. Now, for the brand and the thingie…

“Do you need a hand, dear?” a middle aged woman, clad in a lovely fabric facemask, asked him. He had to get a couple for Anne and him. Reusable ones. His hand shot to his nape and he sighed.

“Any brand you recommend? I’m a bit lost,” he confessed.

“Well, what did she ask for?”

“Regular? And I’m guessing organic because she always prefers things that way?”

“Oh well. I always buy these ones. Do you know if she prefers an applicator or not?”

“I honestly have no idea,” he said, flushing. “I didn’t even know those things existed.”

“Well, take them with. She can always not use it and then you’ll know next time. It’s very nice of you to get them for her,” she commented, passing him a box and putting one of the same kind in her cart, and then regaining the distance that was previously between them.

“Well, she’s not going out, so… Thank you for your help, really. If it’s not too intrusive… May I ask where you bought your facemask? I’m on the hunt for a couple,” he said. He might as well take advantage of the situation. The woman told him about a small store in Etsy and he wrote down the name to look for it later.

**Gilbert Blythe (16:45): Got them. Next time, details, Anne. Details.

Gilbert texted her as he went back to the bakery section. She had been crabbier than usual the last few days and now he understood the reason. If she was anything as before, something nice and sweet would brighten her night. He picked the last slice of vegan chocolate cake and then went to pay for everything, hoping the list was complete and he wasn’t forgetting anything important.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have :) After a longish introduction, now we can say they are officially under he same roof, with all the... awkward situations that may arise. Any thoughts?
> 
> Just a note: many, many things on this story are accurate. There are couple that are decidedly not: a strict lockdown like the one described here is an example, as well as the way hospitals work. We did take some liberties to suit our story. The lockdown will eventually match the reality as it has been in Hamilton, where the story is located, but this strict thing never happened here (it did in some other countries).
> 
> Things that are accurate: celsius, metric system except for some things (like apartment areas), Tim Hortons, the hockey stick length for social distancing, how long it would take Gilbert to go pick Anne up in Toronto, how face coverings were initially recommended (the story is still in March)... and more things that will eventually come out. Oh, and the bubble in the Atlantic Provinces is real, as well.
> 
> Any huge things that divert from reality we will point out. For now: hospital works (we have no idea) and strict lockdown in Hamilton.
> 
> We'll see you next Wednesday!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> We're so glad you're keeping up with the story! And still overwhelmed with the general response we're having, it's truly unbelievable. So, midway and new chapter? Since today, we're updating Wednesdays and Saturdays... so some midweek good news!
> 
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Anne had been trying to occupy her days. It wasn’t that hard, really, but even she needed a break from reading… So, she had been cooking a lot and Gilbert had benefited from some real, healthy food for once. And then she tried to write when she agreed on some details of the project with Kak’wet (zero inspiration). And then she thought about doing exercise, but other than jeans she only had her pajamas… And she couldn’t very well wash them daily. She did her best to ignore her nightmares, how they evolved and some nights woke her up again, as they had done in her early twenties.

Then she decided to clean. Like, deep clean. She didn't go to the closets or the drawer chest, because she didn’t know what she would find and didn’t want to invade Gilbert’s privacy, but she did everything else. Took everything out of the kitchen cabinets, threw many expired cans and other things, cleaned inside and then organized again. His apartment was more on the small side, even if it had a pretty decent living area, but still, it gave her something to do for a couple of days. And Gilbert would be bringing groceries shortly, so it was good to have space for stuff that wasn’t actually expired.

“Hellooooo,” she said as soon as Diana picked up. She could always talk while cleaning. And she hadn’t talked with her bosom friend for weeks, it seemed.

“Hi, Anne! How are you?” Diana seemed happy to hear her. They hadn’t spoken much since she had set up this whole thing.

“Good. I mean, as good as I can be. I’m trying to occupy myself, I had never been so much time inside and it’s positively suffocating,” she commented, as she absent mindedly threw expired cans. She knew Gilbert wouldn’t miss them if the best before date was in 2018.

“I can’t imagine you being in a room… But Gilbert's apartment has a trail very close, no?”

“Oh, it does, and it’s the most lovely thing. I’ve already become acquainted with many of the trees and I think I saw a fox one day. It’s lovely. But I can’t go anymore, so…”

“Why?”

“Gilbert’s city decided a strict lockdown is the way to go. So, I either stay here or I get some very good excuse not to pay a fine,” she answered. “Why on earth would you buy canned ravioli? Yuck.”

“What are you doing, Anne?”

“Cleaning Gilbert’s kitchen so I don’t go mad. But honestly, the stuff he eats…”

“Well, he has had to fend for himself and we both know he’s never been able to do toast,” Diana commented, and Anne laughed. That much was true. Well, at least he could eat decently for a couple of weeks. “How are things going with him?”

“We mostly avoid each other. I cook real food and leave it around so he can find it when he comes. I mostly keep to his room when he’s in the apartment- he wouldn’t let me get the sofa, and now I think it’s for the best, this way I can at least not see him so much,” she sighed, putting on a pile the things she really didn’t approve of but weren’t expired.

“You can’t keep avoiding each other, Anne. Is it…”

“It’s too hard, Di. Honest. I see him and.. I just can’t be around him and not think of everything. It would be so much easier, but…” she felt a knot forming on her throat and tried to dismiss it.

“Anne, dearest… I honestly wouldn’t have suggested this if I didn’t think it was a big idea. Maybe you both can talk about this at some point and be cordial around each other? Not friends, but just be able to coexist in the same space. Would do both of you some good.”

“Oh well, for now this seems to be working. So how are you? Tell me something about real life!” 

They spoke for a while, until Diana had to hang up. Anne wrapped up cleaning the kitchen and moved onto floors, her earplugs still on, now with some music Diana had just recommended a while ago.  _ Gold _ by Chet Faker blasted on her earplugs as she danced as she dusted and swept, completely absorbed in the task she was doing and the music and losing track of time. 

Gilbert came in around that time. He left the groceries he picked up in the kitchen counter, leaving out the box of tampons (organic, applicator) on top of the slice of chocolate cake for Anne to see and put away the rest of the things. He noticed that there seemed to be less clutter around, and put on water for some tea, going about his afternoon and thinking again how he could do so Anne left his room when he was around.

Only when he sat on the island, his cup in hand, he saw her. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. Carefree. He had no idea what she was listening to, but he really wanted to find out. It’s not that Anne knew how to dance, but how she expressed herself. He watched her for a minute as he drank his tea, reacting only when he realized she was not aimlessly dancing but cleaning. 

“Anne?” He tried calling her. One thing was for her to cook, because he knew she actually enjoyed it, but she was not about to clean by herself. She didn’t notice. He tried again, louder. She turned, surprised and so very flushed. “Hi,” he said, smiling. “Please don’t clean? I already feel bad about you cooking. I can do the cleaning. Think of it as a division of labour,” he spoke because she seemed paralyzed like a deer on a highway.

“I…” she started, completely embarrassed. She didn’t think it was fair, with all the hours he worked, and not charging her anything, and not letting her even pay for the groceries.

“Please? Here, allow me,” he walked towards her to relieve her from the broom. She held onto it. He furrowed. “Anne?”

“Sorry. It’s just... You work way too much. Please let me do this. I’ll just do it when you're not around,” she said.

“You know you can be outside of my room when I’m here, right?” He asked. He didn’t want to have given another impression. She nodded. Oh. Then it was just because she didn’t want to see him. Damn. “What about we do it together? It will be faster. We can watch a movie later or something,” he proposed, looking for a compromise. 

“I’m fine, thanks,” she said quickly. She still felt like she was so flushed. It wasn’t even that he wanted to help, it was that he had seen her dancing. He wasn’t commenting on it, thank god, but she really wanted to disappear. She picked up the dust, threw it and motioned to go to his room again.

“Anne?” Gilbert called her when he realized she was going to hide again. She turned, questioning. “Never mind. Thank you, for everything. Left your things on the counter” he finally said, feeling defeated. Again. 

“You got me chocolate cake?!” he heard her say from the kitchen a couple of seconds later, her embarrassment apparently forgotten. He smiled sadly. 

“I did! Please enjoy!” he said, walking back to the kitchen where she was standing, tampons apparently forgotten, the box of cake on her hands. She looked like a happy kid there and it was beyond endearing.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling brightly at him, not remembering her dance moves any more. “Want to share?”

“It’s for you, Anne,” he said. “I’m just having some tea, though. Do you want one?”

“Sure!” her mood had apparently done a 180º change and he was not going to complain. She sat down on the island opening the box as she bit her lips with anticipation. Gilbert chuckled. He should bring her cake more often. “My god! Is this thing vegan on top of all? Gilbert, are you serious?!” 

**Anne S-C (17:28): Diiiiii Gilbert got me cakeeeee 🥳 😋 🍫

**Bosom Friend (17:28): What? Nice! 😃 So you’re speaking with him now? Sudden change!

**Anne S-C (17:28): Not really. He can’t buy me with cake. But still! Cake! Vegan! Chocolate! Yummmmm

He shrugged, smiling, as he served one more cup of water and put the teabag in it. He was not about to say anything and went to sit next to her. Maybe she would stay like this from now one, the chocolate cake, the one icebreaker they needed? Maybe she wouldn’t lock herself anymore? He saw Diana’s text and smiled. Maybe he was going in the right direction?

**Diana (17:28): Well done, Gilbert. Anne’s texting me about your cake feats. Keep it up. 😉

The cake hadn’t done it. She kept locking herself up until one day, when he arrived from the hospital to find a big bowl with something he didn’t recognize. It seemed like a dough of some kind, but looked far softer than what he remembered Marilla’s bread dough to be like. She was, of course, locked in his room and he went about his business, careful not to move the bubbly thing. He sat down with his tea on the kitchen island and supported the phone on the teapot.

“Hey hey hey my Delly-beans!” he greeted her niece, a silly grin on his face. Just by looking at four year old Delphine he seemed to forget half his worries. She grinned as she walked with Bash’s phone “How’s my favorite girl doing today?”.

“Good! I learned to count to ten today” she said, proud of her accomplishment. Gilbert asked her to show him, and soon they were in the middle of some toddler talk, Delly moving the phone with her hands as she talked and explained everything that had been happening. Gilbert kept trying not to get dizzy with all her movements and laughed fondly at her. When Bash appeared on camera, she tried to keep it to herself. “I’m talking with uncle Gilby, pappa! My turn!” Delly insisted, a pout on her lips.

“How’s the good doctor doing? Taking care of yourself?” he asked, trying to study him from what Delly allowed to see on the screen. “Delly, let’s put this on the table and you sit with me on the sofa, ok?”

“I’m good, you don’t worry. I’ve… been making an effort to eat healthier and everything, you know? Keep the defenses up?” he said, not wanting to hint at the source of the real food he was eating. Just then Anne appeared in the kitchen, putting a finger over her mouth to signal she was going to be quiet. He made a signal with his hand out of the camera, keeping his eyes focused on the screen. She went directly to the bowl with the weird thing and seemed to make a happy dance. Well, at least it made sense for her.

Gilbert decided not to pay any attention to whatever she was doing and engrossed himself in his weekly talk with Bash, Mary and Delly, enjoying their antics and telling them slivers about his hospital life. Only the good parts. Trying to explain to them how important it was to take care of themselves. To wear a mask. They were telling him about their last debate on what kind of mixer would be best for home use (something Gilbert only nodded to, not understanding anything) when he, and them as well, of course, because there was a microphone, heard a loud thud, and then… Anne swearing.  _ Way to keep quiet, Carrots. _

“Gilbert, who is there?” asked Mary. Bash laughed.

“Fu…” Bash started, his eyes opening madly Mary pushed him. “Fiddlesticks!” he corrected himself. “Blythe, what is going on there? Are you…? You should have told! You’ve always been a cheeky boy, but…”

“Pappa? What’s happening? How’s there?” Delly asked, clearly unhappy to be left out of the loop. “Pappaaaaa! Uncle Gilby, who’s there? Mommmaaaa”

“Gilbert, that’s who I think it is?” insisted Mary. Bash laughed again. Gilbert was just mute, trying to convey some sort of excuse. The tv might be on? But Anne’s voice was so particular they would not believe him, he knew. Delly seemed madder. Anne was looking desperately at him, trying to pick up the mess.

“Mommyyyy who’s thereeee Uncleeee,” she insisted. “Why don’t you answer? Who’s there who’s there who’s there…”

“You don’t have to ask, love. It’s obvious it’s Anne. Who else would swear like a sailor with that lovely voice? Anne, darling! Come here! Haven’t seen you in ages and we miss you terribly!” Bash answered Mary, as Gilbert was still mute. Anne was pale, the dough slowly spreading all over the floor and her feet, and she was shaking her head frantically at Gilbert.

“Anne who? Gilbert’s fairy Anne? Uncle Gilby! I want to see your Anne! I want to see if it’s true that...” Bash covered her mouth and Gilbert was just shaking his head. Delly asked and now he just wanted to hang up. How do you tell a four year old to keep quiet? He saw Bash nod in a fit of laughter and then Delly’s grin get even bigger. “I’ll finally meet fairy Anne!” The redhead looked at him, her expression almost panicked. Whatever did this girl mean by that? Why did she know about her?

“Gilbert, get up. We want to greet her and you are our legs right now, seeing as she won’t come. And we want all the story, as well” Mary insisted. Gilbert got up, taking his phone, because if he was going down he was taking her with him. Anne was still shaking her head to him as she was trying to put back whatever she could of the dough in the bowl. He crouched next to her.

“Say hi, Anne” he said, speaking for the first time in minutes, trying to sound moderately happy. Just then a notification appeared on his screen and he quickly slid it up.

**Ruby @ Best of Avo (19:32): @Gilbert! We haven’t heard from you in ages! 😢 Everything ok? 

“Hi Bash, Mary! And who are you, smart girl?” she smiled sweetly, her teaching spirit coming to her. She seemed another person altogether and Gilbert couldn’t stop looking at her, mesmerized. Anne should be surrounded by kids, not holled up in his place.

“I am Delphine but uncle Gilby calls me Delly. I am his favorite niece from the whole whole world. I am four and a half! You really are pretty! Uncle Gilby always said you were a forest fairy but I didn't know any forest fairies but now I know you and you are one and forest fairies really are the most beautiful and...” she explained, showing her four fingers and then talking non-stop until she saw the mess Anne was in. Anne laughed. How else could she react to being called that? What was Gilbert doing anyway talking to his niece about her? “What’s that?” the little girl asked curiously at the sticky thing on the tile.

“It was going to be some bread, but I dropped the bowl and now it’s just a mess,” she explained. “A mess I should actually be cleaning,” she added, giving Gilbert a look. Another notification appeared. They were intense tonight, god.

**Charlie @ Best of Avo (19:36): It isn’t like you to disappear this long… Are you fighting this virus or is it something else? 🤔

“I’ll help you later, come, let’s sit at the island” she looked at her feet and sighed. Taking off her socks, that were full of dough by that point, and walking carefully to avoid any more of the spilled dough, she followed him to a conversation she didn’t want to have, but ended up enjoying. Up to a point.

**Diana @ Best of Avo (19:43): Guys, leave him alone. Have you seen the news? I’m sure he is just working hard.

**Charlie @ Best of Avo (19:44): Something you know and we don’t, @Diana? 😏 😏 😏

“Delly, go to your room and bring me something blue, a doll, something starry, something stripped and something super special,” said Bash suddenly. Delly looked at him. “So you can show uncle Gilby all you know now!”

“He knows I am smart, pappa,” Delly answered. “Do you know that, uncle Gilby?”

“Of course I do, Delly-beans. You don’t have to bring anything,” answered Gilbert, very conscious of what Bash was trying to do. Mary shook her head, amused. Anne didn’t say anything, thinking how Gilbert it was to give her niece a composite nickname.

“Come here, darling girl. It’s time for your bath and bedtime anyway. Say bye bye,” Mary stood up and offered her hand to the little girl, who pouted.

“But I don’t want to go! I finally got meet uncle Gilby’s Anne!” Delly said, her eyes watery.

“Tell you what, Delly,” said Anne, who didn’t want to think anything about what the kid might mean by that. “I’m going to Charlottetown when this virus thing is over, and then, if your parents approve, I can go and visit you!”

“Of course we would, Queen Anne. We have been Anne-less for far too long. But it would depend solely on going to bed on time, and it would have to be in Montreal where we are living now” answered Bash, looking at Delly. Anne felt herself flush. When had they moved?

“Goodnight, uncle Gilby… Goodnight, Anne… I loved meeting you. Bye, dad,” she gave him a kiss and then went, still sad, and Bash watched until she crossed the door of the living room. Then he turned to look at them. Anne made to stand up and Gilbert held her.  _ This _ he was  _ not _ doing alone.

“So, tell me the story. How come Anne is living there? Have you both finally come to your senses? The end of the world served to put your priorities straight or what?” he asked, feigning seriousness but failing miserably. Gilbert felt so uncomfortable, because he didn’t need a pandemic to remind him of anything and Bash knew that better than anyone. His brother was the one hearing him rant for hours and try to drown his sorrows for embarrassing long years. Anne felt herself blush, because it really wasn’t like that. They hadn’t come to any senses, there was nothing to come to. 

“He’s just letting me stay until PEI lets me in, Bash. Nothing more,” she explained.

“So you are telling me nothing is happening between you?!” he asked, laughing. “That’s a good joke. And what else? Tell me more, I’m all for comedy tonight.”

“She’s actually being honest, Bash. She’s staying here because her flight got cancelled and there wasn’t any point in paying a long term hotel when she could stay here,” Gilbert insisted. Bash looked at them, thoughtful.

“How long has this been going on?” Anne had actually lost count.

“Early March, Bash. Since PEI closed the island. She was supposed to get there that day,” Gilbert answered. “Look, there’s no need to read anything into this. Anne needed a place to stay in Ontario. I’m the only person she knows who lives around here. Diana called me to ask if I would be willing, and considering I spend most of the day at the hospital there really is no problem, you know my sofa is good. So that’s that. No need for any inquisition,” he explained, a bit fed up, trying to convey through the camera not to push the subject anymore. One thing was what he wanted and another one altogether what had really happened. And there was no need for jokes now. Too close to everything. 

Anne looked at him, wondering the meaning of all this. It was no secret that she had been desperately in love with Gilbert at the end of school. It was actually the reason they stopped talking. He just wanted Winifred Rose and her posh world, and everything became a whole, horrible mess. From which she hadn’t completely recovered, much to her embarrassment. Ten years was a horribly long time. But why would Bash joke with this? It wasn’t like him to make any sort of joke to make her feel bad- they had always been aimed only at Gilbert, never at her. At least that was how it was, when they were teens. And why was Gilbert so defensive? 

Bash dropped the subject, still making a slight comment here and there and asked Anne about her projects and her job. She explained vaguely, giving Bash more insight than what Gilbert had been able to gather from her in the last weeks. So she had indeed been fired, but more as a result of voicing her opinion in an unfortunate matter and being way too forward in her thinking than because she had made some kind of horrible mistake. She dreamed of going back to study to attain a certification that would allow her to teach in other kinds of school, but it was expensive and even if she had been trying to save for it, it was hard. She was trying to write a book, but she dismissed it as something that was never going to be any good- what had happened to confident, ambitious Anne? The conversation came to a close as Mary came back, announcing Delly was sound asleep. Anne stood up as soon as Gilbert pushed the red button.

“I’m so sorry. It just slipped,” she explained, opening drawers to look for something that would help scrape the dough. “I didn’t mean to intrude on the chat with your family and even less to let them know I was here.”

“Don’t worry about it. It didn’t go that bad, all things considered. So, that was bread?”

“Was going to be… My starter finally doubled in size a couple of days ago and this was the first real trial,” she said, sitting cross legged on the floor as she scrapped dough from the tiles. Gilbert went to get the sponge and a bowl with soapy water. “I can manage, don’t worry… My mess, after all.”

“Allow me, please. I was going to eat some of the bread without actually putting any effort in it.” He sat in front of her and worked in the area that she had just scrapped. It was hard indeed. They kept working in silence for some time. Anne was absorbed in her thoughts, trying to make sense of the conversation that had happened. How could she be “Gilbert’s Anne”? What did that even mean? What was Bash’s teasing about? It was weird that after not talking to them for years that was the first thing that came to his mind, and it was… Suddenly she felt drained, tired and down. She just wanted to go to bed as soon as this was done.

“Tomorrow morning I’ll mop the whole thing again and it should be good,” Anne commented as she stood up, the floor reasonably clean, arching her back to get some of the stiffness out. Gilbert tried very hard to ignore the way this accentuated her breasts and her figure in general and decided to distract himself by organizing what they had been using. “Anyway… do you think you can manage for dinner? I just want to go to bed now.”

Gilbert looked at her, frowning and a bit worried. She looked down and sad.

“Of course I can. I’ve told you I can get by. But are you feeling ok? Are you sick?”

“I just want to go to bed. I’m not sick, I’m just not hungry,” she answered, trying her best not to show in her face how bad she felt. Gilbert actually noticed the pain and sadness in her eyes and wanted nothing more than to hug her, but refrained. He was pretty sure Bash’s comments had something to do with it and he would only make everything worse.

“Ok, good night, then,” he said, defeated. He had thought the conversation with the Lacroix hadn’t gone that bad, all things considered. She nodded and went, and he heard the door close softly. He sighed. There seemed to be no way forward with this. He prepared himself a bowl of cereal, ate it quickly and then made some chamomile tea. He approached his door with a cup, a bit of milk and honey in it as she used to take it years ago. There was still light underneath. He knocked lightly. “Anne? I brought you some chamomile, may I come in?”

She really didn’t want to let him in. Her nose was red from blowing it, her eyes swollen from crying and she felt like she was too much of a mess for him to see her. She was trying to avoid showing any kind of vulnerability to him. But he had actually made the effort to bring her something… She put on her hoodie. At least she could hide some, right?

“Yeah, sure,” she finally answered, and he opened the door. He had a steaming mug on one hand. He approached the bed and left it on the nightstand, trying to ignore the tissues scattered all over because they made his heart clench.

“It’s hot, be careful. Look… I’m sorry about Bash. His comments were out of place and there was no need for any of that. Don’t take anything personally, I’m sure they were all directed at me,” he explained, still feeling bad. Worse, even, as he had seen her puffy eyes when he had opened the door. “I’ll leave you now. Sleep well,” he turned to leave, as he hadn’t expected any sort of conversation. He was already at the door when Anne called him, to thank him for the tea. “My pleasure, Anne,” he said softly, sighing as he closed the door.

**Gilbert @ Best of Avo (20:58): I’m just working. There’s this pandemic thing going on. Contagious. No cure. Bad. Only you literally live on an island. So yep, Diana’s right, as always :) Just working hard, but still alive, still healthy.

**Ruby @ Best of Avo (21:04): We’re all worried! 🥺 😢

**Josie @ Best of Avo (21:04): You are worried, Ruby, because that’s the thing you excel at. 🙄 Most of us just miss you in this group.

**Tillie @ Best of Avo (21:05): And that’s Josie and her cold heart speaking. When can we make a group call, seriously?

**Gilbert @ Best of Avo (21:06): You guys tell me. I don’t work nights this week, so just tell me and I’ll be there. 

**Gilbert @ Best of Avo (21:06): Well, connect. 🙃

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone!  
> We're back to the bi-weekly chapter. We love reading your comments and watching all the theories you have, they always amaze us. We know you'll like what's to come in this chapter and can't wait to hear what you think about it. Please let us know! Now, let's get on with the chapter :)  
> And let's not forget... music!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3gYjsoNypEpQrwulFY7ZBv?si=5EC4XGaDRlm1DIvDlVqKuA

After another week without going outside, Anne was going crazy. She craved human interaction and nature, longing for the trail Gilbert had recommended not far from the apartment. Gilbert had a call with their common friends and she just stayed in the bedroom. If anything, she wanted to avoid any kind of noise: enough with Bash and Mary knowing about this weird arrangement. They didn’t need anyone else knowing anything about them. And after that incident she had decided to stay in his bedroom and hadn’t seen him in days, not coming out even for breakfast.

She took out her computer and started writing. Then erased the whole thing. Then started again. Erase. She wrote to Kak’wet. Caught up with Muriel over the phone, but felt there was no real purpose for the call. Then decided to call Cole, because it was early, she could speak freely and Gilbert wouldn’t be back for hours, if she had memorized his schedule by now.

“What’s up, Nan?” he answered.

“I’m going mental, Cole. I need to speak with someone,” she said as she sat down on the sofa, grabbing a throw.

“You do know you’re living with someone, right?”

“We’re not exactly on speaking terms”

“Still? You’ve been there almost a month. Time to get it out. I’m pretty sure he must be going crazy as well”

“He gets to go out and interact with more people. He’s a doctor, remember? Essential worker. Savior of lives. Allowed to go outside. He just looks so fucked up right now, like huge bags under his eyes. Did you know he gets about the hottest stubble over the day and then shaves the whole thing off every morning. Only to imagine him shaving it gives me goosebumps. Grows nice, too.”

“Anne, of course I know. It’s you the one who hasn’t seen him in ten years, we meet every time I go to Toronto. And that’s not what I meant and you know that.”

“Right,” she looked out of the window, ignoring the implications from her friend’s comment. Cole stayed silent as well. “I just don’t know how to speak to him, Cole,” she admitted. “I see him and I can understand he’s still the same Gilbert I had all those years. But I can’t…” she choked, a lump in her throat and tears pooling in her eyes. Not being able to move certainly got you emotional.

“Don’t you think it will get easier once you talk things through with him?” 

She tried breathing deeply to calm her nerves.

“There’s nothing to talk about. What’s done is done and it has been for years,” she said after a moment, an even voice even when she felt tears coming down her cheeks. “I don’t think I can ever trust him again, Cole. I’m too scared for it.”

“Nan, you just have to trust yourself. And communicate,” she didn’t answer anything. “May I suggest something? I know for a fact you haven’t allowed yourself to even  _ think _ about high school all these years” She made a noise. “I think it would help you heal and feel better if you came to terms with that. It was an important part of your life and ignoring it hasn’t helped and will not help. Then you can move on. Then you can get to know adult Gilbert and see him as he really is and not a ghost that forces you to remember.”

“It just hurts, Cole. It hurts so damn much to think about...” she answered, now resigned to cry.

“I know, Nana. It hurts because you have just bottled that up for years. It’s time to face those things. Start small. I know Gilbert has our old yearbook around. Why don’t you start with that? Just look at the pictures. Remember who you were. Maybe talk to him about a memory.” 

“I can’t talk to him about my highschool memories. I was a fool then. He’s in all of them and knows how ridiculous I was.”

“He  _ participated  _ in all of them, darling. Just try that. Maybe don’t talk to him yet, but at least watch the pictures.  _ Acknowledge _ it happened. Cry if you must, but don’t keep repressing the memories. Cherish them. They are good, Nan. We were happy.” Anne got up and went to the library, slowly taking out the outdated book. Looking at the cover tentatively. “Talk to me later? I have to go now, but write to me. I’m honestly concerned about you.”

When Gilbert came back from the hospital he was surprised to see that Anne was not in his room, door closed, as all the other days. She was on the sofa, lying down, sound asleep. Very puffy, red eyes, the ends of her hoodie’s sleeve still wet. Their yearbook on the other corner of the L-shaped sofa, next to her head. He went quietly to wash his hands and change his clothes, putting the dirty ones directly on the washer before having a quick shower and then came back to the kitchen. He turned on the kettle and prepared some tea. He now understood Cole’s message.  _ Take care of her tonight, will you? _

He sighed.

He was tired of tiptoeing around her. He wanted nothing more than to be able to share things with her if they were going to live together for any number of weeks. The only thing was, he didn’t know how to do so when all she cared about was ignoring him but cooking for him daily.

**Gilbert Blythe (18:12): Care to explain what happened?

He saw the tiny three points for what seemed like an eternity, as Cole either wrote a novel or wrote and erased repeatedly a message.

**Cole (18:16): She called me in the afternoon. She’s not doing so well with the whole living arrangements.

**Gilbert Blythe (18:16): You don’t say. I just wish she would let me in, Cole. I have no idea how to prove to her that I’m not the git I was at 19.

**Cole (18:17): That’s the thing. Look. I won’t tell you what I spoke with her. That’s between her and me and I won’t breach that trust. But I will tell you this: a bit of communication never killed anyone. Let me know how it goes. I’m worried about her.

He sighed. They did need to speak, at some point. Carrying on like this was not an option. Not if it ended with Anne crying herself to sleep. He grabbed the two cups and went back to the living room. He left the cups in the coffee table, as well as the yearbook and took its place, next to Anne’s sleeping head. He was unsure about waking her, but she would spend a horrible night if she carried on sleeping. He put his hand on her shoulder, delicately, and caressed her with his thumb.

“Anne,” he said quietly. She furrowed and took her hands to her face, rubbing her eyes. He gently pushed the hands away. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself” She looked at him, confused. “Here, I brought you some tea. Chamomile” She sat up slowly, receiving the cup and taking her other hand to her head. She didn’t say anything. “I’ll bring you something for your headache, ok?”

“Thanks.”

He went to the kitchen and looked for a tylenol and a glass of water. When he got back, Anne was sipping her cup, knees to her chest. She did look terrible. He wasn’t sure if talking now was a great idea, but he also didn’t want to postpone it any longer, if it meant having her like that. He passed her the pill and the water and held her mug for a moment, sitting next to her.

“Anne, we need to talk,” he finally said and felt as she tensed up next to him.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Gilbert.”

“There is. You know it and I know it. We never had the chance when everything happened and I think we both have been carrying it for longer than needed.” Anne didn’t bother to deny that at first.

“You seem to have gone through it by now,” she finally said. He looked at her. She was looking intently at the floor.

“I haven’t Anne. Yes, I’ve carried on with life. I studied and I work now in what I wanted and I have friends and… I just can’t get over not having you in my life,” he admitted, his voice very low. He would try to go by Cole’s words. Communication. And if he was going to communicate, he was going to be honest. She huffed.

“You seem to fare fairly well, Gilbert. Everything you have around here… It doesn’t hurt you? To have all this around you? You have to be over it to...” she motioned to the general space. And he knew what she meant. It was impossible to point to more than three things that weren’t related in some way to her or Avonlea.

“No, Anne. It does. But those are the last things I have from when I was truly happy, and I choose to have them around so I don’t forget,” he explained, looking at her. “I can’t pretend you didn’t exist when you are one of the most important people in my life.”

“You seemed truly happy with Winifred back then,” she whispered, her eyes still locked on the floor. He sighed. Would they ever be able to go past that?

“Anne. I told you then. I’m telling you now. I would never be with her over you. You are the first choice for me. The only choice,” he said, looking at her.

“Yeah, right,” was her sarcastic answer. He sighed.

“I know I was a git, Carrots.”

“Don’t call me that, Gilbert. Don’t you  _ ever  _ call me Carrots again” she said, the pain so evident in her voice that made a knot appear in his throat. It wasn’t even anger, as she had when he started calling her that in sixth grade. It was pure hurt. He took a deep breath to calm himself as he saw her eyes go watery again.

“Anne... Please. Believe me when I say that not one day goes by when I don’t regret everything I did that june. I would do it all over again just to make the right choices. Please. We are stuck together now, at least for a bit. Can we…” she looked at him, her eyes full of tears again, threatening to just pour down.

“There’s not a we, Gilbert. There never was. You made your choice back then, stick with it,” she answered, fidgeting with her hoodie’s sleeves. He felt his eyes well up.

“I don’t want to stick with it, Anne. I never wanted to, because it wasn’t even a choice I made. I was fucking drunk! I honestly believed you when you told me there was absolutely no way for us to be together. I was stupid and I believed it, the choice you made for us. And I tried to settle for the next best fucking thing, under  _ your instructions _ , and I have been torturing myself over that since that time. The only thing I’ve ever wanted is to be with you,” he ranted, a tear coming down, his jaw clenched as hard as he could so he wouldn’t end up yelling because that would simply not do. He was finally able to tell her what he had tried so many times after the bonfire. Only this time she couldn’t hang up. She couldn’t turn. She couldn’t even tear a paper as she had done with the letter he wrote to her.

“I can’t trust you, Gilbert. Not anymore. You were the one person that was supposed to be there for me after Matthew’s death. When we lost Green Gables and then when Marilla was so sick she couldn’t get up. You promised you would never leave me and you would be there for me always, but you never were when I needed you the most. And every horrible situation just hurt even more because of your absence, and meanwhile you ran off with her at the first opportunity, just because you asked me something when I was with more drinks inside than I remember. I don’t even know  _ what _ you asked nor  _ what _ I answered that made you think I was telling you to run off to her. I don’t remember most of that night,” she finally answered, the hurt she was feeling all too evident by the sarcastic tone she was using. She swallowed a couple of times, trying to reign herself, but it was evidently a lost cause and she didn’t want to crumble in front of Gilbert. Leaving the mug on the table, she went to his room. She closed the door quietly and he heard her cry, same as he didn’t hold the tears as he cursed in the living room when she left him there. He knew back then he should have been with her. He had wanted to, but it had been impossible at the time. He found the strength to go over his door and knocked. She ignored him and he sat down next to it, defeated.

“I still want to talk to you, Anne,” he said over the wood. “I know I won’t have your trust today. I can understand that. I’m not even asking for it. I just want the opportunity to try to earn it. To be able to care for you, support you. I’m more me when you are around. You make me a better person. I miss you so much it hurts, because you were so much more than my best friend. You were my world when dad passed away. You still are, in a way” he played with his ring.

He had bought it years ago just to keep everyone from asking if he was in a relationship. He had tried to go out while in university. He had slept around. Had a couple of girlfriends. Honestly, he gave his best effort. He had done his best to forget her, but then he had resigned himself and decided to just put a stop to it. Charlie had joked that it was like he had mentally committed and married her without her even realizing it and he had thought the idea more true than he cared to admit. So he went and bought an inexpensive, but real enough tungsten wedding band. It had worked, for the most part. No woman ever asked him out again. He just avoided any question regarding his personal life and his schoolmates, after forcing an explanation out of him, seemed sadder than anything else and never again commented on it.

“I don’t want things to go back the way they were. That is, I’m afraid, impossible. I fucked up too much for it to be an option. But I want to get to know you, Anne. The Anne that I don’t know and is already 27. I want to be able to earn your trust again. To be your friend,” he pleaded, as her sobs slowly subsided. When Diana had called him, she had warned him of how Anne was skeptical. How she would not be glad to go to his house. How she would possibly be very hostile at the beginning. But also, she had told him that maybe there was a chance, if he didn’t mess up again. “Please. Let me try, at least for the weeks you are staying here. I can’t… I can’t make up for everything I did and for the pain I caused you, and that hurts me. But I can be here with you now and help you in any way I can. Anne… When you can travel to PEI, you can go and never speak to me again if that’s what you decide. But let me at least try until then. Please. Let me try and show you,” he knew that by this point he was begging, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel any shame for it. He rested his head on the door and closed his eyes as he pinched his nose, trying to stop a new onset of tears from coming down. He felt like all his life was coming down at this moment and whatever answer the woman on the other side of the door might give him.

Anne thought for a moment. Worst case scenario… was feeling like she had since she was seventeen. She was used by now to the dull pain. It would be harder in the beginning. But it would be familiar. But what if… what if she could have him in her life again? At arm's length, yes, because she would never allow herself again to even  _ think _ about him in any romantic way, but… A bit of Gilbert was better than no Gilbert at all. She remembered the hollow she felt inside. So constant she believed it was already a part of her. Not even dating had helped cover the hole. Even if by what Diana and Cole had told her, the relationships she’d had could have never done so, so dysfunctional they were.

“Ok,” Anne answered after a while. A voice so quiet, so distant, Gilbert thought he had imagined it. “We can try, Gilbert. Until I go home.” He sighed. Cautious optimism for the first time. 

“Come out then, Anne. Please,” Gilbert asked, gently. “There’s no sense in locking yourself there,” he added. He almost fell when she opened the door, but quickly recovered and got up. He wanted to hug her so badly, but knew for a fact that she would reject him and then they would be back to square one. It had taken many months when she first arrived at school, scared of everyone and very defensive, for her to accept any kind of physical comfort. Anne looked at him. She longed for some kind of human contact, and had half hoped he would hug her… but there again, she didn’t want to have him so close. Not yet. Not for the foreseeable future.

“I made soup for dinner,” she commented shyly, her eyes still on the floor, her voice almost inaudible. “Potato and kale with coconut milk. Want some?”

“Sounds delicious. Here’s a proposal. Go and have a hot shower. It’ll help with the stuffiness in your nose and ease your headache. I’ll warm up the soup and then we can watch a movie or something,” Gilbert answered, trying to smile encouragingly.

**Gilbert Blythe (21:12): Everything better, Cole. We talked. She seems better. Maybe this thing is on the mend?

After that, they managed to find a new normal. She was no longer actively avoiding him. They talked a bit during breakfast, exchanging comments on what they were reading at the moment (he kept up with the news, she spoke about the anthology she was reading). She heard him vent about his day and how worried he was about any more of his patients catching Covid when he came back and she had dinner ready. He heard as she complained of the lockdown, unable to do anything. He knew she would get a fine if caught outside.

“Ok, so. Please don’t kill me for what I’m about to say, Anne” Gilbert tried one day. He had looked for some private insurance for her as best as he could, but Anne had refused to pay for it. Then she had refused for him to pay for it, and he couldn’t exactly do it on her back. There weren’t many options and to marry Anne, as Fred had cheekily suggested so he could pass on the health benefits he had, was completely out of the question. She looked at him. “I know you don’t want to buy private insurance. But the cases continue to go up and I can’t have you uncovered and you’ve been here over a month. So, here’s my proposal: change your address in your bank account and put this one in. Sign up for paper statements. As soon as one arrives, I take you to Service Ontario and we get that sorted out. Please.”

“That would mean I’m living with you,” Anne said, very, very uncomfortable. Gilbert raised an eyebrow.

“How exactly would you call this, then?” she looked at the noodles. She had made ramen that night and they were having dinner.

“Someone being kind and me crashing until everything goes back to normal?” she tried, but she knew better. Somehow, she had ended up living with Gilbert Blythe. 

“Yeah, keep telling that to yourself” Gilbert chuckled, deciding not to press the issue and feeling more relaxed than he had in… years. Pandemic or not, for the first time since he remembered he looked forward to going back home after the shift. He was not on the frontline, at least not yet, and tried his best to keep the oncologic ward as separated from the ER and the ICU where the covid patients were. His patients were still more or less safe. He was picking up shifts of fellow doctors that couldn’t avoid the frontline so they didn’t worry about their other patients. He was working as hard, and probably more than ever (if that was even possible), but he felt better. Turned out having a home mattered.

“Ok, Gilbert. I’ll check the bank statement. Wasn’t there a waiting period, though?”

“No, not anymore. They lifted it so they could cover stranded people like yourself. You know, the ones who say don’t live here but absolutely do?” Anne laughed. “When you go back to PEI you change it again, no harm done. But I would feel better if I knew you had coverage. I know you don’t go out, but you are living here and I’m at high risk just by going to the hospital every day. I tried to pass you the benefits from the insurance I have at work, but apparently there’s no way.”

“Of course not. That’s only for married people,” she answered as if it was obvious. Then she looked away, uncomfortable, and got up quickly. “I’ll wash the dishes.” She absolutely had not wanted to insinuate anything. He didn’t say anything, lost in his thoughts, watching her walk to the kitchen. 

“By the way, my schedule changes next week again. I’m back to early mornings,” Gilbert commented after a moment, as he got up and helped organize the kitchen. 

“Ok. So, I’ll wait for you to have lunch,” she answered. They moved easily together around the small space. Better than what each would admit to Diana and Cole, who every couple of days sent messages just to check if they were still alive. Life on the island seemed normal enough after having done exactly what Gilbert had insinuated when she arrived: they had locked every border and were now one of the provinces with fewer cases. They weren’t even on lock down and Anne kept admonishing herself for the stopover in Toronto.

**Anne S-C (20:36): I may or may not have insinuated something about marriage to G. 😖 

**Cole (20:36): Care to explain? 😳 

**Anne S-C (20:37): No. Just wanted to take that off my head. 

** Cole (20:37): Ok. Just take care ok? 

The quarantine seemed to drag on forever, but maybe it had been just two weeks. Or four. Or one. Anne read a lot. Managed to advance some of the writing and prepared to send the first few stories to Kak’wet, so she could share and give her any feedback. Watched tv. Looked for a job (there were no openings in the dystopian reality they now lived in). Gilbert sent her job postings for the Hamilton area whenever he saw them, hinting not at all subtly that he hoped she would consider staying. 

> _ From:  _ _ anne_shirleycuthbert@gmail.com _
> 
> _ To:  _ _ kakwet1990@hotmail.com _
> 
> _ Subject: Updateeee _
> 
> _ My kindred spirit! _
> 
> _ As always, I’m just overwhelmingly happy to be able to bounce ideas with you. Our brainstorming sessions always leave me more inspired than anything else, but the actual writing is a bit of a mess. _
> 
> _ Writing has been harder than I expected with the lockdown. It’s as if having all the time in the world actually gave you mental paralysis and nothing gets done. Ever. The most horribly improductive I’ve felt since I started college, and you know that’s saying something. It’s just… Hard. I try to clean. The dishes multiply themselves and I’m not a sorcerer’s apprentice to make them wash themselves. _
> 
> _ Bright point is, I suppose, that I’m kind of in speaking terms with Gilbert again. I’m not really sure. I mean, we are talking, and he is being friendly, and I am slightly more relaxed around him… But I’m still a bit wary. I just can’t stomach the idea of trusting him as I did before. Some days it’s easy, other days I can’t ignore that he wasn’t there when Matthew and Marilla died. Or Winifred. _
> 
> _ Anyway. I will let you know about the latest developments with him. If there’s anything newsworthy, anyway. I’m mainly concerned. And absolutely confused, as you guessed the other day. _
> 
> _ I’m attaching a word document with the draft for the first couple of stories. Tell me what you think, and if we should make any adjustments before you pass them on to your community? I want their honest feedback, of course, but I also want to give them something worthy of feedback, if you know what I mean. _
> 
> _ I love you, dear one. _
> 
> _ Melkita’ulamun _

**Gil (13:40): Don’t kill me for suggesting this, but maybe you might be interested?

He had written the first time he sent her a link. She had opened it without thinking. She wasn’t exactly a match for the position, but it was kind of nice for him to send her something. Then she saw where it was. 

**Anne S-C (13:42): That’s in Hamilton, Gilbert 😑 

**Gil (13:43): I am aware. Hence the “don’t kill me” Just saying… You could consider staying around here.

She didn’t answer, but applied and didn’t comment anything when he sent her more vacancies in the area. Not many, because there  _ weren’t _ many. But she did apply (no one called). What did she have in PEI, other than her friends? She had lived in BC for years, completely alone. Well, except when she had dated Daniel, and looking back, that hadn’t been a particularly happy experience. She could do the same here. She just needed a job. It wasn’t like she could pretend anymore; she was living with Gilbert Blythe.

Sighing, she decided to get some outside perspective. If you could call it that way. She looked in her phone and tried calling Mary (wrong number, she must have changed it) and Bash (wrong again) before giving up.

**Anne S-C (15:38): Hi…. do you think you could send me Bash’s and Mary’s contacts? Somehow, I have an old number…

**Gil (15:42): Sure thing. Anything I can help with?

**Anne S-C (15:42): Thanks. I just want to call and say hi. It’s long overdue.

**Gil (15:43): They’ll be so happy 🙂 They keep asking about you. See you tonight, I’m a bit busy.

**Gil (15:43): [Attached contacts]

She tried the new number and Bash picked up almost instantaneously.

“Queen Anne! The best surprise, how’s my favorite redhead doing?”

“I’m… doing fine, all things considered. As Gilbert keeps pointing out, I do have a roof and food, so…”

“That you do. And I know he is so glad. So, tell me, to what do I owe this honor?”

“I… I just wanted to apologize. For disappearing, you know? I know it’s been a long time… God, I didn’t even know you were now in Montreal or had a daughter and then I had your old number…”

“Don’t worry about that, Anne. We all know it’s been difficult. Important thing is now you’re back in our lives, I hope to stay?”

“Absolutely. I’m back. I think. Not going back to BC, anyway. I just have to get a job somewhere and figure out how to carry on.”

“What happened? I mean, why were you on your way to PEI?”

“I… it’s embarrassing, but I lost my temper with the school principal and told her all that was wrong with the school. In assembly. With very flowery words, in front of all the kids. And teachers. I mean, I actually hated the job, so it’s not really so much of a loss… And it was the only thing keeping me there. So now I was thinking of going back home. Or where I think home is.”

“Haven’t you considered other places?” Anne remembered Gilbert’s links with Hamilton job offerings.

“I… I don’t know, to be honest. I think it’s more the… idea that PEI is home than anything else. So, if you have something in Montreal for a liberal teacher with a bad reference let me know. I’m not sure I actually have a place to call home anymore, without Marilla or Green Gables,” she admitted. She heard Bash sight.

“You know you can always establish a new home, right Queen Anne? You can even start off some of the foundations you already have.”

“That’s why I thought of PEI”

“I’m not talking about land, girl! I’m talking about your history! Think about it, ok? Home is where the heart is. So, what are your plans for work now? Do you want to go back to teaching?”

“Well… Not so much that I want to, but it’s the thing where I can get a job, so I guess I will. When schools open,” she commented. The prospect was zero motivating.

“I asked about what you want, Anne. Not what you feel you have to do. Two distinct things, darling.”

“What, you’re asking about what I would dream? Ha! So not happening, Bash. I stopped having any illusions regarding that years ago.”

“Humor me?”

“Maybe... I would do a Waldorf teaching certification, and write. I have a project with a friend to relieve some First Nations stories and give the proceeds to kids out of the foster care system, and I’ve always played around with a fairy tale series but never got around to write it. Happy?” she said, exasperated. It was not happening and it was not worth entertaining the idea. 

“Ok. Then I’m going to channel the dad role Delly is teaching me how to do. You want a certification and to write? Just focus on that, then, Queen Anne. Not on anything else. You can’t go outside? Then write. You want that certification? Actively save for it and make it a goal. And then help me convince Mary Waldorf is the way to go and not Montessori. I don’t know what kind of arrangement you have with Gilbert right now, but if he is still the man I helped raise he won’t charge you much for rent and you can save these months and use that for your studies. Don’t give up on your dreams, Anne.”

“It’s… It’s just hard, Bash. Nothing is quite like I imagined when I was seventeen and I haven’t… Since Marilla’s and Matthew’s deaths, I haven’t been able to focus much,” she confessed. She knew what she wanted to do, but lacked motivation and focus. After losing Gilbert, then Matthew, then Green Gables and finally Marilla in the span of five or six years, she hadn’t been able to recover completely.

“You have us, Queen Anne. If all else fails, you have Mary and me. Remember that. I have a meeting in a few minutes, but call me whenever you need anything, ok? Even if just to chat.”

“Will do, Bash. Thanks. For everything.”

“Not a problem, girl. We love you. Tell that git you live with to call me when he gets a chance. Bye bye”

“Ok. Bye now,” she hung up and went to lie down, ideas forming on her head. Bash had a point, as always, and she had much to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... how was that?  
> This past week has been hard in covid terms... We hope everyone is safe and taking care (make Gilbert proud!).  
> We'll be back next Wednesday, enjoy your weekend!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> So, they talked! Kind of! But finally, so now they're interacting... and talking... and stuff. Anyway, as we don't want to give that much before you even get a chance to read the chapter, here you go, music and the story: 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Uj14xOMaJ8evfAGfUaFc5?si=t86_nAtvRYGiAeukmkLwcg
> 
> We hope you enjoy. As always, we love to know what you think :)
> 
> See you on Saturday!

Anne wasn’t really thinking much when she went out of the bedroom. In her mind was only coffee and how to occupy herself for the next 16 hours. Well, maybe 14. Gilbert would be home at some point and they were kind of talking some now. One day at a time. She could try new recipes. She could… read. Maybe she could pick up a new hobby? And what was that noise?

She walked towards the living room and froze. Ok, that he worked out she had figured out just from seeing him around, he was evidently fit. She couldn’t stop staring at his arms most of the time so she had figured she could concentrate on whatever he was holding at the moment (book? coffee? Did it matter?). But she would have never guessed he did it in the apartment. The first few weeks he had gone outside and came back straight to the shower and she hadn’t thought a thing about it. Most of the time she had been locked in his bedroom, anyway. But since the strict lockdown was enforced, he couldn’t go out.

So he was working out in the living room. Shorts and no t-shirt.

He was facing the window, opposite to where she was, so he hadn’t noticed her as he went from a plank to a squat before jumping and doing it all over again. It was mildly hypnotizing in a weirdly satisfying way. Going with the rhythm of the low music he had on coming from his phone.  _ Now I’m in It _ , she believed. By HAIM. Huh. Anyway. The Rhythm. Who would have imagined, when they were teens, the apparently fit Gilbert Blythe would get so much better as the years went by? He was a scrawny teen then, compared to what he was now. Not bulky, just… firm and strong.

Anne watched the way the muscles on his back clenched and stretched consistently with the movements, marking as he did each exercise, and her mind started following the rhythm. His hair sticking to the back of his neck and little beads of sweat in his back that were blurry as he jumped, wetting the upper part of his shorts. At least until she realized what she was doing, when he changed the sequence.

She turned quickly to leave before he noticed her, because if he saw her she would never live it down. However, clumsy as she was, she stubbed her little toe on the corner of the bench that was by the entrance.

“Fuck!” she let out unconsciously (and loudly, probably) as she leaned forward, sitting on the floor to see if there was still a toe in there. It hurt so much it must have fallen off. Not two seconds passed before he was there. Great. She was so close to the living room entrance, the offending bench just in the way, there was no way he wouldn’t guess where she had been. Just what she needed. Gilbert Blythe knowing she was watching him exercise. Gilbert Blythe next to her, smelly, strong and radiating heat. How could he smell so alluringly when he was evidently just very sweaty?

“Are you ok, Anne?” he asked, kneeling next to her, completely forgetting what he had been doing, what he was wearing (or not) and only concentrating on Anne. Injured Anne. What was she doing there? Why was she flushed if she had hurt her toe? 

“Toe... Shit, this hurts so much,” she said, teeth clenched, concentrating on the pain just so she could ignore him. Him and his way too fit chest and his hair and those shorts and… pain was good. Pain meant not thinking of him.

“May I see?”

“No! It hurts! Leave it, it will fall off on his own,” she said, not thinking. Gilbert chuckled.

“It won’t fall off. You do know I’m a doctor, right?” he said kindly. She was so flustered it made no sense if she had just hurt herself on the toe, he thought again. Unless… Oh, that was nice. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert had been watching him exercise? And was now this lovely shade of red? Nice. She was suffering, he wouldn’t egg her on now. But it did feel nice. “Please, let me see,” he insisted, and she reluctantly let go off her foot. Which looked perfectly normal. “Which toe?” he asked.

“Tiny one? Still there? Has to be broken.”

“Still there,” he assured her, holding her foot gently with a hand and motioning to examine the finger with the other. Anne retrieved her foot quickly.

“No!”

“Anne, relax. I just want to see if there’s anything more serious. Broken, as you said?” he said. She closed her eyes. Someone kill her now. She extended her foot again. He did whatever he had to (it hurt so much she could not contain the swears) and then he left the foot carefully on the ground. “Nothing to worry about. Here, I’ll help you stand. Lean on me, I’ll help you go to the sofa before I get some ice” he said, offering his hand. She accepted, not having more choice other than to stay on the floor, and leaned on him as she jumped towards the sofa. Leaned on his sweaty and strong and warm back, his arm around her waist almost carrying her. His exercise mat was still on the floor. She sat and he disappeared into the kitchen, thinking of how tiny she still was, and came back a couple of minutes later with an ice pack and some medical adhesive tape.

“You said nothing to worry! What is that for?” she asked, freaked.

“I don’t think you broke it, so it’s nothing serious. Even if you had, the treatment would be the exact same I’m going to do unless you had an exposed bone. This will just help you with the pain,” he said. She bit her lips as he taped her little toe with the next one and put the ice on top. “Only ten minutes and then rest. You can put ice a couple of times more during the day if it really bothers you, only ten minutes each. I’ll have a quick shower and then I’ll make breakfast. Anything you fancy?”

“Coffee? Please?” he nodded, and went back to the kitchen to set the coffee pot before showering, shaking his head. Of all things, he hadn’t imagined dealing with a hurt Anne this morning. A hurt Anne who, to have stubbed her toe there, could only have been standing in the threshold of the living room. So Anne was watching him exercise? He smiled silly, his dimples making an appearance on his face. She had been all but unaffected by him when they were teens, or so he had always thought. But this? This was nice.

Anne also started trying new recipes as a way to pass the time and insisted on paying for the groceries every time he went buying them, even when he never received the money. He laughed and assured her that feeding him was more than enough. And he was actually saving by buying fresh ingredients and not frozen meals.

“At least let me teach you how to cook! I won’t be here forever, you know?”

“Shoot. Here I was dreaming,” he half joked. Because he was dreaming that maybe, just maybe, she would stay there. She looked at him. “Ok, ok, teach me. You tell me what to do. What are we cooking today?”

“We’re making a quinoa salad and some hummus. I already cooked the chickpeas and the quinoa, so it’s pretty much blend and assemble,” she said. She went to the fridge explaining to Gilbert how for salads it was important to find a balance between crunchiness, freshness, and try to put in something from every food group and balance the flavours. She took out some veggies from the fridge as well as the rest of the ingredients for the hummus and showed him how he was to chop the ingredients. “Just put those with the quinoa so they don’t clutter your board, we’re mixing everything anyway.”

She turned and went to look for the blender. She liked that for whatever reason Gilbert’s kitchen was overly equipped for the amount of cooking he did (it was perfect for her), but she hated that it was made for giants. She got on her tiptoes to reach the blender and he noticed. He admired how she looked when she stretched like that. But she was going to fall and drop that blender on her head.

“Here, allow me,” he said, going behind her, closer than necessary, and reaching the blender easily. She froze, feeling his warmth behind her. She didn’t dare move. He was never this close and she honestly couldn’t think. Her mind blank, all her nerves focused on his warmth, the image of him working out coming straight to her mind. He left the blender just in front of her. “There you go. Just ask, I can get things for you if I’m around,” he added, speaking close to her ear, a hand on her arm. She felt goosebumps and tried to ignore them. He squeezed her arm lightly and went back to chopping as if nothing had happened. But he felt so smug. He would have never imagined she would react to him that way, she was so flushed it was positively endearing. He knew she wasn’t as mad as unsettled. And unsettling Anne was something he loved to do. Especially after the other day.

They carried on cooking, Anne more silent now, her mind half-way between his warmth and the vision of him working out and how his arm had felt that day around her waist, and then they shared dinner before going to the tv to watch the next batch of sobering news. The world seemed to be literally falling apart and here she was, little by little, letting her guard down and concerned only about what Gilbert maddening little gestures might mean. And his marked arms. And his gentle strength. And his smell, that had lingered around her until she had taken a shower. One day, she joked without thinking and didn’t feel bad about it after. Other day she shared a story about her teaching days, which seemed like a lifetime ago. Gilbert treasured those moments.

**Fred (11:30): Lunch today? Or your Anne sent you with your lunch box?

**Gilbert Blythe (11:33): Not my Anne. But she did.

**Fred (11:34): Spoiled brat! Ella never sends me lunch. 😭

**Gilbert Blythe (11:35): Sorry, Freddie. You wouldn’t eat it anyway. Let’s meet at 12:00? I have to finish a treatment plan and then I can go. Your office or mine?

**Fred (11:40): Yours. I’m going to grab something, unless you want to share whatever you have 😏

**Gilbert Blythe (11:40): No problem. She packs enough for two.

“Blythe, I just can’t picture you doing something like that! I don’t believe you. I’ve known you for ten years. You don’t flirt! You don’t make advances. You let whatever woman crawl her way into you but you never do anything,” Gilbert had been telling him about the blender incident and Fred seemed incredulous, at best.

“Because I wasn’t interested, Fred… I’ve told you before,”

“I only love Anne and will only love Anne and Anne is my life even if she hasn’t spoken for me in one, two, five, seven,  _ ten _ years,” Fred recited in a childish voice. Gilbert snorted, but didn’t deny anything and just took one more bite of the salad they were sharing. “Have you told her about the ring?”

“Are you mental?! I want to live, don’t I? I was thinking of stopping using it. I feel it’ll only cause trouble down the road.”

“Now you think that. Well, nurses will be happy. Divorced doctor Blythe. Quite the catch,” Fred commented. “Hasn’t she asked about the thing?”

“No, never. Better for it to stay that way. I could make up some sort of medicine-related story or whatever if I needed, I guess. It’s not like she knows anything about the profession. Dessert?” Fred grabbed the bag quickly, not imagining Anne sent Gilbert a full lunch. But there it was in a little foil packed, an oatmeal muffin.

“You’re kidding! You’re beyond spoiled,” he said. Gilbert gave him a triumphant smile.

“I know. I don’t care,” he said, before changing the subject to his favorite dog in the whole world “How’s Bear doing?” Fred’s face lit up as he started talking about the huge Newfoundland he had adopted a couple of years back.

That night they were sitting on the sofa, each at an opposite end as they usually did. Anne always cared about maintaining as much space between them as she could, and Gilbert had chosen not to force things. He was reading the heavy book Anne had seen on his nightstand and she was just browsing clothes on her computer. She was tired of living in three t-shirts, two pants, a sweater and a hoodie. But she also felt bad about spending money on clothes when everything was just waiting at Diana’s. 

“I’m getting some tea, want some?” Gilbert asked her as he got up. She nodded as she sighed. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah,” she answered, getting up as well and going with him to the kitchen. “Just… It’s stupid, really. I know it doesn’t make sense because I never leave the house, but I was thinking of buying some clothes to at least get variety. Until I saw the prices. Do you think Diana would send me a box from PEI? I sent everything to her house after I left Vancouver”

“I’m sure she won’t mind, if you remember which box it is,” he commented as he put out two mugs. Anne took out the tea and some banana bread she had made the night before. 

“Yeah, I guess… There’s only three of them, I’m sure she can open them and look around,” she explained. “Well, I guess I can wait for a couple of weeks. Or I could go with you to the supermarket, they’re bound to have at least t-shirts.”

**Anne S-C (16:20): Darling Diana, may I ask you the greatest of favours since you set me up to live with Gilbert? 🥰

“Anne, don’t throw your money like that. Wait to see what Diana says. Did I tell you how good this is?” he asked, as he showed her the banana bread. She nodded brightly.

“I’ve been improving the recipe. Chocolates chips for the win.  _ And _ I managed to make it without eggs, and I’m pretty sure you didn’t tell the difference”

“This doesn’t have eggs?” he examined the slice he was eating. She shook her head. “Ok, you win. Official pastry chef of the house. Look, if you are so desperate for changing, just look through my closet for t-shirts or whatever. Nothing will fit you, but at least is different,” he said. She sighed.

“I’m so desperate I might accept your offer,” she said, just as her phone buzzed.

**Bosom friend (16:22): Sure thing, tell me.

**Anne S-C (16:22): Send me a box with clotheeeeeees. I’ve been wearing three changes of clothes for weeks and I’m going mad. Gilbert must have seen my desperation because he just offered me his clothes 😢

**Bosom friend (16:23): He just wants to see you in them. I’ll send the box. Do you know which one it is?

**Anne S-C (16:23): He doesn’t. And I don’t know. 🥺 There’s only three of them with all my worldly possessions, can’t you just open them? 🙏

**Bosom friend (16:24): I’m sending all of them 😑

**Anne S-C (16:24): Noooooo because where those boxes are my home is and I don’t want my home to be Gilbert’s apartment.

**Bosom friend (16:25): Deal with it. I’ll go tomorrow to the post office.

**Anne S-C (16:25): You’re incorrigible. But thanks 😘 Let me know how much it is and I’ll send you a transfer.

“Well, she’s sending all the boxes. She doesn’t want to peek through them.”

“Understandable. How many did you say there were?” he asked, thinking about a whole moving truck arriving.

“Three. I don’t have many things, Gilbert. Just a few trinkets from Green Gables, some books and clothes. I’ve… I don’t like having things. They always remind me of something and I avoid that. I’m sure they won’t take much space, they’re not big boxes. So. What do you think? Should I put some nuts in this next time?”

“Anne… I don’t care how much space they take. You can just unpack them. Feel at home here. Really.” Anne looked at him like he couldn’t be serious. “I know you don’t live here. But only so you feel better the next few weeks? I understand it must be tiring to be in your situation. At least that way you’ll feel some sense of belonging to the space.” He tried. Because even if what he was saying was true, he also wanted her to move in with him. And they were getting a bit better, a bit more relaxed around each other with every passing day. He could tell the difference and he knew she could as well.

“I don’t know if that is a good idea, Gil,” she answered quietly, looking at her tea. The implications were too big.

She couldn’t afford to feel installed in his house. She couldn’t let her guard down, not yet. But she could wear his hoodies, and that’s what she did. Only until her clothes arrived, anyway. Right?

The first time she picked a hoodie of his was because she had put hers in the washer and needed one. She picked one from the bottom of the pile, figuring he wouldn’t miss it much, and put it on. It was huge, because… well, he was huge compared to her tiny frame. She didn’t think much of it when she walked out of the room and noticed he was still sleeping, his face more peaceful without the worry lines he seemed to nurse all day long. She stood there for a moment, just studying him. 

She did want to befriend him again. Only she didn’t know how. His mind and him in general (his body!) were just so attractive to her she felt warm inside in more than one way. But then she remembered when all her illusions crashed down years ago and she wanted to keep her distance. She didn’t feel ready for anything. To even admit he was her friend. That still seemed too much (but somehow, still not enough). She turned and went to the kitchen when she saw him stir, hurrying to put on the coffee.

“Good morn…” Gilbert said from the door, still very sleepy, but lost his words when he saw her. She had accepted the offer to wear his clothes all right, but he hadn’t meant  _ wear my hoodies and nothing under _ . He swallowed and turned directly to the bathroom. It’s not that he hadn’t seen her legs before, she kept using some almost indecent shorts as pajamas. He knew they were still long, the skin so soft and creamy he just wanted to bite them. It would not do for Anne to see what her attire did to him. He closed the door behind him, resting against it. It was not fair that she walked around like that and he had to deal with his finally subsiding morning erection coming back to life in full force. It was just rude from her.

“Gilbert? Are you ok?” she asked from the other side. 

“Yep. I’ll… be a minute,” he answered, trying to sound relaxed and probably failing miserably, but it worked as he heard her steps going away. He sighed, trying to clear his mind from Anne and failing spectacularly as he seemed to be invoking more and more images from her. When she went on her tiptoes to get the blender and he stood against her and she smelled so sweetly Anne. And when she stretched after cleaning the mess she’d done with the sourdough. And… he was only getting harder. Fuck.

He was in deep trouble and he knew it. Maybe a cold shower? He stripped quickly and got into the stream, the shock of temperature waking him fully and distracting him enough so he could go out quickly to his room and change. When he came back into the kitchen, he saw her sitting on the stool eating some toast with peanut butter and sliced banana on top and drinking a coffee as if it was the most normal thing to do while wearing only a hoodie. Was she doing this on purpose? She was pure evil.

“I prepared you one as well,” she commented as she scrolled. He nodded, taking his things and sitting next to her. “I took on your offer. They are comfy. Just so you are aware, you just lost your wardrobe”

“Anytime, Anne. Anytime,” he said, as he tried to look discreetly. He breathed when he saw she indeed had some shorts (those very short shorts of hers) underneath the hoodie and only then he could enjoy his breakfast. She was  _ so _ trying to kill him.

3:23 am said her watch. She tried to go back to sleep, but the images of St Albans were still vivid in her mind, too real as soon as she closed her eyes. She sighed. She hadn’t had a serious nightmare in months and had been glad for the change. Not one that forced her to get out of bed, anyway, because they had been almost a nightly companion since she arrived at Gilbert’s. Sitting up, she decided she might as well get a glass of water or a tea. Maybe tea: preparing something would clear her mind. It had to, because it was still too early to call Kak’wet. Or Jerry.

She left the hoodie, deciding it was not worth right now. Gilbert surely was sleeping and she would be in and out of the kitchen before he knew it, so he would never see her in the thin camisole she wore to bed. She tip-toed to the kitchen and carefully put the kettle on the stove, not daring to turn on any light in case it woke him up. Years of staying up, going out in adventures in the middle of the night and coming back unnoticed were fruitful: she didn’t make a sound.

Claiming victory, the hot chamomile mug in her hands, she turned as the light bulb from the corridor lamp went on.  _ What…? _ Not two seconds passed before a very shirtless Gilbert appeared clad in only a towel. She froze in place. Maybe if she stood still he wouldn’t notice her? And she could go back to his bedroom very very quietly?

“Anne?” he called her, and turned on the kitchen light.  _ But she had been invisible in the dark!  _ “I saw your room door open. Are you feeling well?” he asked, visibly worried. She nodded. The bedroom door. Shoot. She had lost practice.

“Just a bad dream. I’m… I’m going back to bed” she squeaked, doing her best not to look directly at him and keep her hands and the mug directly in front of her breasts. She was not too sure about the coverage of the camisole, to be honest. Also, she wanted to unsee him. The image of him working out haunted her constantly to now add Gilbert in a towel. It was not fair that he was so damn hot! Like he was hot when he was in the hockey team but this? This was illegal. And in a towel! What if it fell?! How well had he secured that thing?

“Let me just change in a second. I’ll be right with you,” he said and disappeared towards the living room. She stood there, still frozen. Well, St Albans was no longer in her mind, now. He came back not thirty seconds later in his horrible hospital scrubs. “Come,” he said, motioning towards the sofa bed. That was still very much a bed.  _ His _ bed, thank you very much. She sat down, still looking straight to her tea, feeling she must be so, so red. Like a freaking teenager. Because she could not take the image of him in a towel from her head. Of him working out, sweaty. Geez, she needed help. Professional help. “Want to talk about it?” he asked. The question brought the orphanage back to her mind. She no longer knew if she preferred that or half-naked Gilbert.

“Not really. There’s not much to tell,” she answered. She didn’t want to talk with him about her nightmares. Not when she had told him all about them when they were teenagers. Not when he had come to appear in them all through her twenties. 

“Still the orphanage?” he asked, quietly, passing an arm through her back and holding her for the first time in years. He tried to ignore her attire as it would not do to show any appreciation for it at that moment. Had he known how she slept, he would have had many more sleepless nights. For Anne, his comforting arm felt so right she didn’t even have the will to shake him off and he seemed to notice as he held her closer. “Anne, please know you are safe here. I… may not be a great reference, considering everything, but you know I never make the same mistake twice. That has not changed,” and somehow, she believed him. Because she knew it to be true. He had never erred two times in the same way. “And it means you can relax here. You can trust. You can feel safe,” he said, quietly, feeling as she relaxed.

It was nice, not having to explain how she felt or what her dreams meant. He already knew that. Anne just couldn’t have thought he would remember. She tentatively rested her head in his shoulder and felt him sigh as he held her tight. Everything about them seemed so fragile right now it scared her so much. She couldn’t bear to lose him again and the fear had her reluctant to let him in. Once had almost destroyed her. She would not survive a second time. She drank some of her tea, not moving, and he held her the whole time. When she finished her cup, he took it from her and left it on the table. 

“Lie down” he instructed, pushing the covers to the side. She looked at him, frowning.

“What?”

“Lie down. I’ll wait until you go back to sleep and I’ll go to work after, I can grab a coffee in the hospital when I get there. I just want to make sure you’re ok before I leave. You’re more important. Come,” he insisted, arranging the pillow and she surrendered, crawling and lying down on her side, facing him.

After the first night, they had traded pillows (he was used to his, after all), and she had slept better. This one was still slightly warm and oh so gilberty. Like most of his clothes she now wore without any shame. And the way he smelled that day she stubbed her toe. He pushed the duvet over her. He turned off the light and crawled over behind her, over the covers, and spooned her. She sighed, tense and relaxed at the same time. 

“Relax, Anne. I know for a fact you won't go back to sleep on your own, and even less in the same bed you woke up on. I just didn’t know you still had nightmares,” he said. She swallowed at the feeling of his breath on the nape of her neck and remembered him in a towel. Her mind was going to kill her. “Relax, Anne-girl,” he said without thinking and felt her tense up again at the sound of her old nickname. He sighed. “Do you want me to move?”

If this wasn’t going to help, he would move in a second. He had only done it because it used to work in high school. She didn’t answer, but shook her head slightly after a moment. So, he stayed until he felt her relaxed and breathing deeply and rhythmically, and then hurried out the door to try to get in time.

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> We’re so glad you enjoyed the small respite in all the tension. Not that it didn’t create another kind of tension, but we’re all here for that, right? So, after being snuggled to sleep before Gilbert went to work... what happens? We hope you like this chapter and find it illuminating and entertaining in equal measure.
> 
> As always, here’s the music!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2gozNuIEE9ys5eMoQ2VWfg?si=wJFQ1LKJSiuUGB7ZeEBCbg
> 
> Everyday we receive a new comment with theories or insight about the story it makes us smile and sometimes even laugh out loud at inconvenient places. Please keep it up? It makes our days :)

When she woke up again it was mid-morning. The second sleep had been deep and dreamless, and for once she didn’t care to be enveloped in his duvet. It felt like an airy, warm and soft hug and this morning she was not prepared or willing to part with it. In no rush for anything, she decided to stay there for a while and grabbed the tv remote. When drowsiness came, she didn’t fight it: she was done fighting anything in this lockdown and felt more resigned and hopeless than anything else after the night battling nightmares.

That’s how Gilbert found her when he came back past midday. He had expected anything but to see her there, hugging his pillow, an  _ Are you still watching Gilmore Girls? _ message in his tv. The same cup on the table where he had left it before dawn. Taking off his shoes, he went to change and wash his hands, trying not to make much noise, and then went to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and found some leftovers. Putting soup to warm, he returned to the living room after some minutes when he turned off the stove. He sat down on the couch, turning off the tv.

“Anne?” he said softly, a hand on her bare shoulder. She mumbled and buried her face in the pillow she was hugging. But he knew now she was awake. “Come on, Anne. You won’t sleep anything tonight if you sleep through the day. Time to eat.”

“I don’t want to move,” she answered, or that’s what he thought. He grabbed the pillow and tugged it, only to have her hug it harder. “No, leave me.”

“I won’t do that,” he said, chuckling. “Come, up. Lunch is ready now” He got up, thinking she might follow him, but she just turned to give him her back. He grabbed the end of the duvet and uncovered her. She was all curled up, that flimsy camisole half way up and her legs mostly uncovered by those shorts she insisted on wearing. Fuck, she was so hot one day he wouldn’t stand it, he had been trying to take her image off his mind the whole morning.

“Hey! That’s not fair!” she complained, sitting up and hitting him with the pillow, all at once. He looked at her, grabbing the pillow before she could have it back. She looked so good, sitting in the middle of his bed, hair all tousled, a pout in her mouth. That camisole that left so, so little for the imagination. She looked unbelievably hot and he needed something to distract himself from that fact. He gave her a mischievous look, a new glint in his eyes. “Oh, no Gilbert. I’m not doing this. Look, I’m up” She said, standing quickly and letting go of the pillow.

“Good! Only there’s not going back now, Anne” he said laughing, attacking her with it. She ducked quickly and grabbed one of the cushions he had piled neatly next to the sofa the night before and defended herself. The ensuing pillow fight was something that had them avoiding the attacks of the other, lunch forgotten. Gilbert repelled her blows methodically, keeping the cushions Anne was throwing him cushions without relent, and before long (it’s not like he had an unlimited amount in the living room) he had an armful of them and Anne had none. He was trying very hard not to laugh at her now. “I think your strategy has a flaw, Anne,” he said at last, laughing, when she looked around for more, clearly seeing her mistake before he started his own attack.

Anne ran off to the bedroom, him behind her leaving most of the cushions on the floor, and grabbed her own pillow when she arrived and kneeling in the bed, thinking it provided the protection of him not being able to come much nearer. Her own pillow was a shield against Gilbert’s cushiony blows, but she was laughing so hard she wasn’t able to do much. He was in the same predicament, trying to continue but failing miserably. He dropped his pillow in a fit of laughter and Anne saw the advantage and grabbed it.

“Oh no, Anne, that’s mine!,” he joked, and tried to retrieve it with no success. A tug of war with the pillow ensued, but Gilbert wasn’t about to use his strength to gain the pillow back: Anne was still in his bed and would surely fall to the floor, and he didn’t want that. Just as he thought of that (and therefore distracted himself) Anne pulled harder and took the pillow and also him, with her. Taken aback, he only managed to let go of the pillow to support his fall, so he didn’t crush her completely.

The laugh died almost instantaneously.

Gilbert couldn’t quite remember if there had been other times when he had been on top of her, even with a pillow between them. This close to her. He couldn’t take his eyes off of hers, the blue shining with mirth, a smile still on her lips, her hair a mess after being in bed all day. But for all of him, he couldn’t get himself to move, feeling her warm body beneath him. It was as if something was gluing him there. And she didn’t seem to mind.

So he studied her face, her freckles, the biggish one of her chin especially, all in the eerie silence that had enveloped them. Thinking for the thousandth time if he was ever going to be able to kiss her and get away with it. Maybe if… They were just so close. If he kissed her, would she run? Would she kiss him back? He saw as she breathed, her eyes wide, feeling the warm air reach his face and make him want to kiss her more than ever. But she would run. He knew that. 

Anne was breathless, not daring to move a muscle, seeing how the expression in Gilbert’s face changed from laughter and joke to something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. His eyes, this close, showed the most marvelous green speckles she had never noticed before. She didn’t want him to move. She might be half crushed, yes, but it was a delicious feeling to be crushed by him. As she breathed, everything smelled like him. She could even  _ feel _ him breathe. God... This… whatever energy was in between them in this moment, this was life itself.

And then their phones buzzed both in between them (his, in his pocket) and on her bedside table. They almost jumped, so mesmerized they were. Anne didn’t want to think about what could have happened if it wasn’t for the buzzing. Gilbert did want to think about that, because he could not get kissing Anne out of his head and it was starting to become… a problem of sorts. And that would have been the perfect moment. Maybe? If he had been brave enough?

There again, their life was full of perfect moments with plenty of interruptions. Had been like that in high school, and it seemed it was still the same. They scrambled quickly, as if someone had just caught them doing something wrong. She scurried to the table and saw the incoming facetime call.

“No way I’m answering Josie right now, I’m not doing video calls,” she declared, looking at the incoming video call, just as he answered without thinking. Because she was pretty sure she was flushed. Because right now she was too confused to even speak. Because she was wearing this camisole she’d had since Marilla sewed it for her when she was fifteen that was basically transparent twelve years later and…. Shit, Gilbert had seen her in it. Like she hadn’t even covered herself like in the morning. And because she had been avoiding videos for the whole month trying to evade reality and not one of their common friends knew about this arrangement. Only Diana and Cole, and they’d rather have it that way. 

“Hey, Jos,” he said, too late now to hang up. And suddenly he saw other faces. Charlie. Cole with Roy. Ruby and Moody sharing one screen. Tillie. Diana.  _ Shit _ . His hand shot to his nape, scratching it uncomfortably. How on earth were they going to get out of this?

“Tell Anne to answer!” called one of them. Anne felt like a bucket of cold water covered her. They were not supposed to know she was staying there! Only Diana and Cole knew, unless Gilbert or one of them had said anything. He looked at her as confused as she was, giving them away.  _ He only had to look confused to the camera, not in her direction! _ If there was any sliver of doubt in the mind of anyone in the gang, there could be none now. Anne was giving him frantic looks as she looked everywhere for a hoodie. She finally surrendered and took one from Gilbert and put it on, answering the call. Hoping no one would know it was his.

“Hi guys! Nice way of inviting to a group call,” she said, trying very hard to look cool and, Gilbert noticed, failing miserably. And of all his hoodies, she had to take  _ that one _ . Great. Cole tried very hard not to laugh. Diana looked bewildered but with a smile. The rest seemed like Christmas had arrived. A shrill noise started sounding, probably because they were so close, and Moody spoke on the other side.

“Anne, Gilbert, one of you hung up. Or turn off the speaker, you just confirmed anything we wanted to know,” he instructed, a very mischievous smile on his face. Wanting the horrible noise to stop, Anne did just what he said, ending the call on her phone, and the searing noise stopped immediately. “Now go somewhere and sit! We want all the details.”

Anne looked at him. She didn’t want to have this call. Her staying with him was not a public knowledge thing.

“Liv...dining room?” she proposed. They couldn’t quite go to the living room. The sofa was still very much a bed and she knew their friends. Of all the days, they had to call today? A little notice would have been nice. Gilbert nodded and she followed him slowly, looking at her phone for the first time since she woke up after the nightmare and finding it full of notifications.

**Cole (10:54): Anne. Heads-up: Josie is planning a facetime call with the gang because I may or may have not spilled the beans about you staying with Gilbert when we all had a drink yesterday.

**Cole (10:55): Please don’t kill me. I honestly thought everyone knew by this point. You’ve been there over a month. 🙈 🙈 🙈 

**Cole (10:55): Remember you love me. 🥺 💔

**Cole (10:56): And I love you. Please, for your sake, be presentable for the call. You don’t want to have much to explain. Neither Gilbert. They are already beside themselves and are thinking of you behaving like an old married couple. Don’t wind them up.

**Bosom friend (11:06): Dearest. Cole ratted you out. There’s nothing we could say that convinced them it was a mistake so… Josie is planning a video call. Because they think it’s suspicious you haven’t agreed on any so far and for her that confirms you're with Gilbert. 

**Josie @ Avongang (11:30): Hey hey hey! So, call at 2:00? Facetime? I can’t bear dealing with zoom one more time.

**Rubes @ Avongang (11:31): I can’t wait!! 💕 💕 💕 We’ll be there, Moody is in rehearsal now.

**Charlie @ Avongang (11:40): I just want to see this for myself. I still don’t believe Cole.

**Cole @ Avongang (11:42): Guys… go easy, ok? It’s not like they asked for this. 😓

**Tilie @ Avongang (11:42): Go easy?! @Cole, we’ve been waiting for this for the most part of a decade! So 2:00, @Josie I’ll wait for the call. Not so patiently.

**Jane @ Avongang (12:03): What call? What have we been waiting for? This is why I hate missing Friday drinkssssss I can’t today at 2:00, I already have dreaded zoom with the family in Halifax… 😓

**Tilie @ Avongang (12:04): Anne has been living with Gilbert in Hamilton for the past month. You better invent some excuse for the fam.

**Jane @ Avongang (12:05): WTF?! 😱 Are you fucking joking? Anne can’t be living with Gilbert. They haven’t spoken since grad. They’ll kill each other. OR ARE THEY FINALLY TOGETHER? 🎉

**Charlie @ Avongang (12:10): Join the call and see for yourself! It’s what we all want to know. Cole wouldn’t tell anything. I’m also curious about her silence today...

“Anne?” Gilbert called her. She looked up from her phone, still more than half of the notifications left. She did not want to participate in this. She shook her head. 

“I’ll make some tea. I’ll join you in a minute,” she answered, giving no space for debate and went to the kitchen. Gilbert stood up and followed her. As much as she had this spooked face, he felt uncomfortable as well because neither had wanted to tell anyone of this, giving it a chance to go into oblivion if it didn’t work out. And he was so not explaining everything on his own. He put the phone against the microwave, the incessant chatter of their classmates on the other side.

“There. Hi guys. Sorry about that, change of plans,” he tried to apologize as Anne grumbled and put water in the kettle, decidedly turning her back to them. 

“Soooo tell us! Are you finally together?” asked Ruby, all heart eyes. Anne froze in place, her back to the camera. 

“No, Ruby. I’m just lending the couch until PEI let people go back home,” Gilbert explained with the same tone he had always used when explaining a complex problem in simple words. His teacher tone, Anne used to joke. 

“But you are living together,” Tillie asked. 

“No, Tillie. I’m literally homeless right now, Gilbert was the only one in Ontario we could think of and he was kind enough to lend a hand. Remember I asked in March?,” Anne insisted, still not turning and clenching her fists in fury at the whole thing. She tried breathing deeply. Cole was so dead. Gilbert tensed a little at her words. He knew, of course, that he had been a last resort for Anne. But it still hurt a bit to hear. And he wasn’t going to be the one to point out that, for all legal purposes, she was living with him. 

“Well, how is it going? How come you’re both still alive by this point?” asked Josie, still skeptical. Anne finally faced the camera. They were all there. For the first time in years, she could say they were all together. Together apart, yes, but it was still nice to see something she hadn’t thought would happen again. With that, she relaxed. Something good would come out of this. As long as they didn’t dig too deep where there was no future. 

“We manage, Jos. We’re both adults now”, Gilbert commented. 

“He’s gone most of the day anyway so it’s like I’m under home arrest or something. And I just read, cook and try to write. I’m trying to remember Marilla’s lessons in bread making and Gilbert eats the result, good or bad. There’s been banana bread and I have a science experiment on sourdough on the counter. I was thinking of picking up some kind of sport or something… I’m just restless not being able to go out and the doctor here won’t allow me to put a foot outside.”

“It’s not me. It’s Hamilton lockdown rules,” countered Gilbert from the other side of the kitchen, where he was serving the soup he had been warming up, kettle all but forgotten.

“There’s always one thing you could try, you know?” Said Charlie, mischief in his voice. “Se…”

“Anne! You could try yoga!” Diana interrupted Charlie. But everyone knew what he meant. And Anne was so, so red. Gilbert was so, so still. “Or HIIT, I saw there are apps with discounts now.”

“I’ll try  _ yoga… _ so, how’s home?” She tried diverting the attention. Just then Gilbert got close to her, bowls of soup in his hands.

“Come, bring the phone so we can eat,” he said quietly. This allowed a whole array of comments to ensue, as they hadn’t heard him and just seen him speak quietly to her. Anne continued to be beet red for the remaining of the conversation about the island, how there were next to no new cases when the daily count in Ontario was rising each day, and a general teasing from their former classmates, who were giddier and happier for them to be in speaking terms than anyone wanted to admit.

“Ok, so, before we hung up… can I just say something?” Said Jane, who had joined the conversation a little while before. “Can we pleaaaaase use only one group? There’s no need to have two of them if you‘re finally together. And it’s tiring. I mean, I know we’ve have two groups since whatsapp allows to _ make _ groups but it just doesn’t make sense.”

“We are not together, Jane,” Gilbert corrected before Anne could say anything. 

“We’re just talking again. Nothing more,” added Anne. 

“Yeah,  _ talking _ ,” sneakered Charlie. 

“Can we just pick a group then? Let’s flip a coin, we won’t hear the end of it if not if we leave these two to decide which one is worthier,” Jean said, laughing. “Who’s admin?”

_ Cole has added Gil to Avongang _

“There. Decision made. So, we’ll talk next week?” Cole asked. “We want to know all the updates.”

“There’ll be  _ no _ updates, Cole,” Anne warned him. He was already deep enough in trouble to tease. “Ok, I love you all, but I’m going now,” she said, getting up and picking the bowls to put into the dishwasher. She heard Gilbert say his goodbyes and a moment later silence, followed by some music he put on. She sighed. This was not how she had expected this day to go.

“So… they know, now.” Gilbert commented, turning on the kettle again. 

“Let’s not speak about any of that ever again, ok?” She said. “I really should shower, I’ve done nothing but sleep the whole day.”

“Anne,” he insisted. He didn’t think ignoring anything would make it go away. It hadn’t worked before. She turned on the door. “We can as well face the facts.”

“What facts?”

“For starters, that you live here. That our friends clearly think there’s more into this arrangement than there really is. That there’s clearly something going on...”

“There is  _ nothing _ going on,” she said confidently, because she honestly thought so and didn’t want for there to be anything. She still wasn’t that comfortable with being in his place, let alone talking to him. She couldn’t even say she trusted him again, even if she was actually trying. Yes, when he had been on top of her a little while ago she had thought about kissing him, but that’s just because he was so damn sexy it was annoying. Not because there was anything between them. Fuck, she did not want to give that impression. She was not happy here and just coping because there was no other way. Ugh, the nerve to imagine anything was changing...

“Anne. There’s no need to be defensive. I just thought…” but he couldn’t end the sentence as Anne, who suddenly looked furious, interrupted him. He couldn’t be serious, she thought.

“You just thought what? That because I had to stay here I am happy? That magically I would forget everything? That’s rich, Gilbert. Just rich. What would ever give you that impression?”

“Anne, calm down. There’s…”

“I’m not calming down Gilbert Blythe until you explain to me what the fuck could give you an idea that there is anything going on between you and me. Come, let’s hear it,” she demanded, her voice full of sarcasm. He stayed silent, not wanting to participate in the discussion that clearly would just escalate if he gave in to what she was asking. He tried to think of any way to bring her to her senses. She hadn’t spoken to him like that since… since she stopped talking to him for good. There again, maybe this time he could get some facts straight? Just maybe?

“If you would allow me to talk - please?” She looked at him, taping her foot on the floor, arms crossed. He sighed. So conducive to communication. “Anne… I truly believed that when you said you would give this a chance that we would be able to leave 2010 where it belongs- in the past. It was just a huge series of misun…”

“Don’t you fucking say it was a series of misunderstandings, Gilbert Blythe. It was pure hurt- it  _ is  _ pure hurt. I just… Shit, I’m not talking about this” she felt like she was choking and swallowed a couple of times to get the feeling and the pain away. She would  _ not _ cry.

“You are, Anne.  _ We _ are. This has gone for way too long and I just need you to understand how there is no need for this to be like this.”

“Easy for you to say, right? Damn, Gilbert, so easy. You got everything back then. Everything you wanted. So don’t start with…”

“I didn’t. I don’t. I only wanted and I only want you,” he insisted, stepping closer to her. Why couldn’t she understand this? She backed, laughing. He looked at her. Was she seriously laughing at this?

“Of course, you wanted me. To tell me about fucking Winnie? Everything you did with her that I found out from every other single person in town? How you took her to our places just to have sex with her on our shared memories? To be able to laugh at me with Billy Andrews? Rub on my face how convenient I was for high school but just how inconvenient for every single other thing that was to happen after?” he was so impressed by the stream of words coming out of her mouth he couldn’t find it in himself to answer. At the mention of the bully he had defended Anne from so many times (because only he knew how to get to her even in high school), he regained his voice.

“Why on earth are you mentioning Billy? Nothing you’ve said happened, by the way. Nothing. But why would I laugh with Billy? I only ever tried to get him shut,” he said. Well. He was pretty sure  _ nothing _ of that happened. He couldn’t pinpoint now the exact places where he’d had sex with Winnie. And there was no way she knew about the forest.

“Don’t fucking start denying things now, Blythe. Don’t you dare do that shit. I had Josie Pie and Jane Andrews write me messages for weeks, even when I asked them not to. They just loved rubbing on my face everything they saw you doing with Winifred. I had Billy mocking me in graduation and you were not three meters from him, completely engrossed with Winnifred to even remember you once had a friend in freaking high school. And I saw you and her.”

“Anne, what on earth are you talking about?”

“After the ceremony, back at school. Not bonfire night. The actual ceremony where you took that bitch as your partner instead of me, like we had agreed on ninth grade. Don’t… You know what? This makes no sense. There is no point in this.”

“There is a fucking point, Anne!” he exclaimed, losing his patience despite trying his best not to. “Can’t you see there are two sides to this story? I’ve been trying to tell you the other one and you have not let me! Please!” Gilbert tried to calm her down with a gesture and she walked backwards to keep the same distance between them. She didn’t want to be near him. Whatever happened in the last few days, weeks, had been a horrible, horrible mistake and she was having none of it. She didn’t want to end up as hurt as the last time.

“You want to tell me your side of the story? What about you see it from mine? Shit, Gilbert, just try to see everything from my fucking perspective and see how it feels! It’s your best friend and the person who you loved giving you your back over and over and over for no reason other than some shit you apparently said while drunk and you don’t even remember! It’s seeing him everywhere with another girl who he always insisted was no one of consequence! Is everyone in town telling your adoptive parents your friend  _ finally _ made the right decision on who to hang out with and who to date, and that’s not you! Then there’s this same friend laughing as you get made fun of on graduation day, coming unannounced with this same girl even when he had agreed in grade nine to come with you. And to top it all, when you go to the places that were sacred for your friendship looking for whatever refuge you may find, there is your friend on the verge of having sex with this girl. Or having sex! Not one time, or in only one place, but repeatedly!” her voice was just going up and up until she ended up just plain yelling at him. Because the alternative was it breaking, and with it, herself as a whole.

He tried to inhale deeply because he knew that was supposed to help calm down. But when she finally stopped to breathe, he realized he didn’t exactly want to calm down. He was  _ so _ done with this. He knew when he was half-coerced into accepting Anne at his place that something like this could happen. It had always been a possibility and the main reason he had wanted to refuse. Because he had been trying to deal with this whole episode for years and he had felt he was moderately successful. He might be single but he led a full life. Until she was in front of him, he realized it couldn’t have been just the teenage hormones playing a role on him, but that he desperately loved her and desired her. When he was nineteen, when he was twentynine, it didn’t matter, he was just frustrated with her and loving her and how could she look so good when she was yelling? That was beside the point, but honestly?!

“Anne! Will you stop?! I understand your point! Fuck, you don’t even have to explain it to me I’ve known it since then and I have tried so many times to explain everything to you it doesn’t make sense. You want to continue to be the poor suffering Anne? Then be! I’m so tired of trying to fix this. So tired of walking on eggshells around you. There’s no hope for any of this if you don’t fucking listen to anything! It’s like trying to talk to a deaf person! Would you listen to yourself? You are  _ not _ a martyr, just the product of the biggest miscommunication ever! And what pains me the most is that everything could have been avoided but you’re way too proud and stubborn for your own good! For both of us! Do you think it hasn’t pained me, not having you? Don’t you ever stop thinking how much I desire you? Come on, Anne! Be serious!” he knew he had lost it and probably stepped way out of line but he had just to take everything off him or he was going to go mental.

She was shaking her head slightly, backing up until she found the wall. He kept walking to her because as the seconds passed he was more sure that  _ maybe _ a way to end this for once was just kiss her and be done and maybe that would show her he had always been there for her and that it was only she who had pushed him off? She was looking at his lips, an eerie silence between them, the low music he had put after the call distant. She snapped out when he was at arm's length, when she realized how much she wanted to kiss him, despite everything. And that would not do. That would mean trusting him. And she was not going to fall in that trap again.

“I can’t do this, Gil,” she murmured, avoiding him and going straight to his room, looking to the floor. He took a second to react but then followed her. He was so done with everything regarding this subject they were going to have this conversation whether she wanted or not.

“We’re not done, Anne,” he said, opening the door without even asking. She was sitting on his bed, back against him, hands on her face. She ignored him and that only made him angrier. “You can’t just keep escaping everything” she still didn’t turn, as if somehow she was not hearing him. But she wasn’t covering her ears. Not really. “I’m going to assume you’re listening so I’m going to get some facts straight: the only reason I was with Winifred was because you told me to be with her. You might not remember this, but I do, and as soon as I realized it was just drunk talk I broke things off with her. Haven’t seen her since. Never got around telling you that, because you are miss stubborn and can’t seem to see reason. About Billy Andrews- I have no idea what you are talking about. If I was absorbed in Winifred, well, please excuse me. I was trying to get over you, following what I understood was your best advice. And you believing shit Mrs. Lynde and Avonlea’s gossip are telling around? You have to have more sense than that, Anne,” he wasn’t going to broach now the subject of him taking Winnie to some places because he knew he had and that was just plain wrong. He hadn’t known Anne had seen him there.

She had stayed still, just to see if maybe hearing the words from him made any difference. She had heard that version from the facts before, nothing on it was new. Cole and Diana had been very insistent on it for months after graduation. But now… hearing it directly from him... It just didn’t change anything, hearing it from him. It still hurt the same. She even believed him, she just… it hurt too much. Just like after those first few, confusing days. 

She hadn’t been able to see anything related to Gilbert Blyhthe without immediately associating it with those few weeks when he had been inseparable with Winifred. And she had seen them in their favorite spots- even the ones they had sworn never to share with anyone else. Because those days she thought she could still go there and feel the same refuge she had felt before, when she used to go with him, but she had only found sorrow, emptiness and, on some occasions… Gilbert and Winifred in very compromising positions.

It was around then she decided not to keep anything from him, because it felt like some infection spreading, everything was getting tainted. She couldn’t see his old hockey jersey without remembering how Winifred seemed to have one, now. As if she, Anne, was replaceable. She couldn’t keep the old wooden toy fox he’d given her to honor the stories she used to imagine: he had taken Winifred to the spot where they had been created, that they had vowed was only theirs. At some point she decided just to throw everything out and be done with it. It just hurt too much. 

“Anne, will you please look at me?” He said after a moment of silence. He had fully expected her to yell back at him and when she didn’t he felt unsettled. There was nothing from her. He walked over where she was and sat down beside her, seeing how her hands were wet with tears that seemed to be falling freely. He tried to put a hand in her back to comfort her and she jumped as if he had burned her. He withdrew it immediately. 

“Don’t. Don’t do that,” she said, her voice broken. “Don’t touch me.”

“Can we talk about this, please? Will you ever forgive me?” She looked at him, and shook her head the tiniest bit, but enough for him to feel like he was losing air. “Anne… please. Please, just… is there anything at all I can do to make this any better?”

“It just keeps hurting too much, Gilbert. It just hurts. It keeps hurting and hurting and it never goes away. I lost you, and then when…” she choked and closed her eyes. And he knew what she was talking about because deep down he knew he had had to be there at the time, even against Cole and Diana’s judgement.

“I wanted to be there for you. But you never spoke to me anymore and I didn’t want to interfere if it would make it worse for you,” he said softly. She looked at him. 

“The point is you weren’t. You disappeared from my life and broke me. And when what little I had crumbled down, you stood and looked from the most convenient distance. Were you too tired to deal with me? Had you a new girlfriend, a new best friend by then? Was I too inconvenient?” she asked, getting up to get away from him. “For years you promised to be there for me. And then when I most needed you, you were nowhere to be seen. I actually thought, when Matthew died, you would come. But you didn’t. When we lost Green Gables and I had to pack the whole house alone with Jerry, because by then Marilla was too sick and Cole and Diana at Uni, I thought maybe you’d show up to show some kind of support. Even if just a text. But you didn’t. Only silence, not even a fucking message, Gilbert. And then when Marilla died I already had lost any hope. It felt as bad as losing them- only worse, because you are still alive and I knew you weren’t there because you didn’t want to. You were absent in every single one of the most important events of my life after being adopted, good and bad, and you were the one that was supposed to be there,” she sat on the floor, back against the wall, hugging her knees. She didn’t want to sit next to him now.

“Anne, there’s no excuse… I’m so deeply sorry,” he said. He never knew she had been expecting him. Not anymore, not when by that point they hadn’t spoken in years. 

“Sorry? Try living through it, Gilbert Blythe,” she answered, incensed again. “Don’t come here saying I’m sorry as if that had ever fixed anything. Fuck, the easiest word to say when you don’t mean it.”

“Don’t mean it? What do I have to do for you to believe me? Shit, Anne, there's nothing I can do right! Yes, I should have been there when they died! I agree! But the fact of life is I wasn’t because I thought I wouldn’t have been well received by you! There’s no fucking forgiveness in you? At all? Nothing that shows you can evolve and grow past a point? For the record, I have also been living through this. And it also hurts like hell being on this side, too, so don’t go around saying I just went about merrily through life. This is shit. It’s crippling and debilitating and I can’t function well if it’s not at work- because there I have just a façade, a part to play, and that’s easy because I don’t miss a part of me. And I do miss it every single fucking day of my life, so don’t continue with this suffering part as if you are the only one hurting. You are not. And your suffering is as valid as mine. I also lost a friend. I also lost my person. I also lost the person whom I love. Even before you did- because you told me to go and have with someone else what I only ever wished to have with you. And it hurt so much the only thing I was able to do was follow your freaking directions to see if there was anything valid in them, and then losing you again when you just stopped talking to me. Not a word to explain, just silence and void. I had to ask everyone what was happening because I couldn’t get it, why you wouldn’t talk to me after I was trying my best to do what you told me to.” 

“I’m going out,” she decided, because she needed air, to breathe something different than the vicious air of the apartment. Gilbert looked at her. He had never said any of that out loud, but he knew he had to take it off his chest. He stood up as she did. 

“Anne, you can’t go,” he said as she put on her jeans over her shorts, looking for her shoes in the closet. She ignored him. “Anne! I literally mean you can’t go. Quarantine, remember? Can we just…”

“Quarantine my ass. I’m going. I need to think,” she answered, grabbing her scarf because she actually didn’t know what the weather outside was like after weeks without going out. Gilbert tried to stop her again, grabbing her arm. “Let the fuck go of me now,” she said. 

“Be reasonable. You will get into trouble.”

“It looks as if I care? Good,” she sentenced and went out the door, closing it hard behind her. He followed her quickly, but she closed the stairs door on his face and when he opened it again she had already sprinted down. 

“Fuck!” He let out, hitting the rail of the staircase. He sat down on the first step, not knowing what to do. She couldn’t go far, that he knew. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> You had the most passionate response to last chapter! The comments were a thing to behold and we are so grateful for all of you taking a few minutes to send a message. We appreciate them so much you can't even imagine.
> 
> Now, we're eight chapters into the story... So it might be a good moment to remind all of you that this has an M rating? It's for many reasons, not just sex. Please keep that in mind moving forward. 
> 
> We think most of you who left reviews (and probably many, many of those who didn't) will thoroughly enjoy this chapter. Please let us know in the comments?
> 
> And as always, music! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6QeTFwVWW3J32LalFs5nuN?si=MqDNcz4uRyOeXXHR9NKdqA

When she was out of the building she stopped. He didn’t seem to be following her and she didn’t have a plan. It was true what he said: she couldn’t be found outside. She tried to remember anything about the area the apartment was located from her first few weeks and then remembered. The trail. If she could manage to get there before being noticed, then she would be good. She doubted anyone would look for people infringing the lockdown there.

She walked quickly, almost running, until she was under the refuge the trees provided. She kept a quick pace a few hundred meters more, just in case, and then stopped. It was quiet. The sound of the wind in the trees and the birds that knew nothing of the quarantine were her only companions. Not one person in sight. She walked slowly until she saw a smaller path that went directly into the trees and she followed it, wanting to get as deep as possible and leave the main, paved path. Only when she found a fallen log that looked inviting she stopped to think. 

There was nothing she wanted more than to be on good terms with Gilbert. That was a given. But an impossible one, it would seem. Every time she thought she was making any kind of progress, she went backwards and she didn’t know how to move forward. Because she did believe his version of the facts. Most of it, anyway. But it didn’t take away the hurt and it certainly didn’t help that he was never there when she had needed him. She was sure the only way to have him in her life was to forgive the past, forgive him, and maybe even forgive herself. 

She hugged her knees, trying to keep the fresh air at bay, and rested her back on another tree. Even if she was in the middle of the city, she could feel like she was in a familiar forest. Closing her eyes, she stayed still, concentrating only in her breathing and the songs of the birds, trying to clear her mind from all the words and memories of Gilbert, completely losing track of time. 

Gilbert returned to the apartment and cleared the dishes that were still around, trying to occupy himself with something different than Anne but failing miserably. He replayed once, twice, thrice, more times everything they had said to each other. They had been yelling and probably using words they wouldn’t have used if they were having the calm conversation he had wished for.

But what nagged him was that everything they had said was true. His pain, her hurt, all the facts. They weren’t even inventing anything that hadn’t happened- maybe only his motives, because certainly he hadn’t done anything with the purpose of hurting her. He would never hurt her, he preferred to hurt himself. 

He retrieved his phone from the table where he had left it.

**Josie @ Avongang (16:34): So glad @Gilbert Blythe and @Carrots got their shit together!

**Rubes @ Avongang (16:42): The best news ever! 💖 💞 💗 

**Charlie @ Avongang (16:45): Even if they’re “not together” 🙄 

Oh, well. He would just ignore them. He was deep enough in trouble because of them to pay any more attention to whatever they had to say.

**Gilbert Blythe (16:49): Freddie, I fucked up. 

**Fred (16:50): Whatever do you mean? Got sick already? Told you to not go down to ER.

**Gilbert Blythe (16:50): No, mate. With Anne. All of our mutual friends found out she’s staying here and started jumping to conclusions. I tried to talk to her about that, you know it’s been on my mind for weeks. She went mental. Barged off. Have no idea where she went.

**Fred (16:51): Fuck. You do have zero tact. 

**Gilbert Blythe (16:51): Thanks? I don’t know what to do. 

**Fred (16:51): Should we go looking for her? If anything we show our hospital badges and hope for the best. 

**Gilbert Blythe (16:52): I think I’ll wait for a bit. Let her cool off. I just hope she doesn’t get caught.

**Fred (16:53): Let me know. I get off at 6:00, so I can go with you.

**Gilbert Blythe (16:53): K.

He looked at the ceiling. How could he be so stupid to bring the subject just when their friends had found out about the arrangement? It wasn’t that the conversation wasn’t necessary, it was just that the timing was the worst ever. He wrote to her. He scratched the back of his neck, annoyed, not knowing what to do. Checked his phone. Made some tea. It got cold. Checked his phone, again. Wrote again. Tried reading the book he was studying now. Called her, but went to voicemail. He couldn’t understand a word in the book. Checked his phone, yet another time. He put on Friends on Netflix. Drank the cold tea while scrolling and not paying attention to either thing. Cooked some dinner. Let it cool down.

Anne didn’t answer. She felt her phone buzz several times, but decided not to mind it at least for a while. When she said she needed space and time to think she meant it. She knew she had to come back, but that could wait a while. And she was pretty sure that was Gilbert, she knew his pattern by now. Sadly. When her legs started hurting she lay down on the log, looking at the canopy and the clouds that were slowly passing by. She sighed. It was cold but she would not go back yet, and his hoodie was really nice and toasty. Maybe she could talk with Diana? She always helped her. Cole as well but he was on her black book for the moment. Cole would be the one, otherwise.

She took out her phone. Several notifications from Avongang, Cole and then Gilbert.

**Cole (16:32): Nan, I know you’re mad. And I am terribly sorry about the whole thing. Call me when you can?

**Gil (17:15): Anne? Please come home. We can talk and sort this out.

**Jane @ Avongang (17:20): We all know the truth, @Charlie. As always, they’re in denial.

**Charlie @ Avongang (17:20): That’s what I mean. You can feel the sexual tension all the way over to PEI. Why are they ignoring us again? Hey, @Gil and @Anne S-C, are you finally doing it?!

**Gil (18:08): Anne, please. At least tell me you’re ok. I’m worried here.

_ Gil (19:25) _

_ Missed FaceTime Audio Call  _

She could kill Charlie. And Jane. And Josie. And everyone there.

**Fred (19:43): So? Did the mythical Anne appear? I just finished dinner, wanna go looking for her? Ella can go in the other car.

**Gilbert Blythe (19:44): Nothing. I’ll give her until dusk. Then we go. Please and thank you.

“Bash?” he finally gave up.It was nearing 8:00 in the evening and there was no sign of her. He was going mental. 

“What’s up, Blythe? Here’s a niece who wants to talk to you,” he answered, passing the phone immediately to Delly.

“Uncle Gilby? When are you coming to visit? Pappa says you can’t now but I want to go to the park and I can’t do that also and I want to see Susan and Sam and that I can’t do also… Mamma says I play inside now and she paints with me but she doesn’t paint pretty. Does fairy Anne paint pretty? I really really really want to meet fairy Anne. Can I talk to her? Where is she? Can I talk to her? Please uncle Gilby? Pretty pretty please? She will know how to make mamma paint pretty….” Gilbert sighed.

“Delly, tell you what. We’ll do a video playdate, what do you say? I’ll read you a story and we’ll act, you with your toys and I’ll make something here. How does that sound?”

“And fairy Anne? Will she play as well?”

“I… believe she would, yes. Maybe if you ask nicely she will,” he answered, trying to ignore the fact that she had been gone for more than three hours with no sign of anything.

“Can I ask her now?”

“No, she’s busy at the moment. I’ll tell her to call you tomorrow, ok? Can you pass over your dad, please?”

“Ok uncle Gilby. Tell fairy Anne I am very happy she came back from the awful place of despair,” she said and Gilbert closed his eyes. She was way too smart for her age, even if she was just repeating stuff. He just hopped she would never tell Anne the stories he had made up out of missing her. “I love you uncle Gilby.”

“Love you too, Delly-dough. Pass on your dad, please.”

“What’s up?”

“Go away from Delly because you don’t want to put money in the swearing jar,” Gilbert advised, knowing his brother by then.

“Ok, I’m out of earshot now. What’s going on? Spill,” he said after a moment.

“I fucked up with Anne. Bad. She stormed off almost four hours ago and hasn’t answered anything. Avonlea’s gang found out she’s living here and cornered us. I then tried to speak about… whatever is going on between us, because there is something, Bash. I can just feel it. But now she’s gone. Like not answering, not giving any sign, nothing. She can’t be found outside or she’ll get a huge fine. Maybe she has, by now. I don’t know what to do. Honest,” Gilbert explained quickly, before Bash interrupted him.

“You are so incredibly stupid,” Bash commented after a moment. “Even if there is something going on between the two of you, why would you speak about that instead of letting it evolve naturally?”

“I didn’t try to speak about that. I wanted to speak about what happened after graduation to clear it off because she is clearly hung up on that.”

“Are you fucking stupid? Blythe, you’re a freaking moron, how do you talk about that in that moment, just after she's been pressured into admitting something that’s not there? You have to have more sense in your head than that! You finally get the girl to speak to you, acknowledge you exist and you start that shit? Everything in it’s due time, brother! If you have an opportunity like this you don’t let it go to fucking waste!”

“Yes. Well. Thank you. Anything useful you can say? I actually called asking for advice, not to be chastised,” Gilbert answered, annoyed. He heard some noise over the phone and some muffled voices.

“Someone is putting plenty of toonies in the swear jar. We could hear him from the kitchen. What happened, honey?” Mary talked, worried.

“I fucked up, Mary. Big time. Did everything wrong, then made it worse,” he said, feeling defeated, a knot on his throat.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Cole let out to the whole gang that Anne’s here. They called us today. Videocall. I answered before realizing what was happening. Obviously they found out, there was a lot of teasing and when we finally could talk alone I asked Anne if we could have a conversation about what was going on, because she keeps in denial, like that’s going to solve anything. She didn’t want to, which shouldn’t surprise anyone by this point… And I just kept pushing and pushing until both of us ended up saying everything we hadn’t said in years. Not in a good, constructive or pretty way. I… finally, when I thought there was a chance, I had to do this. She went out and hasn’t answered anything since about four in the afternoon,” he explained. 

“Gilbert, I won’t be Bash here because he already gave you a piece of his mind. But can you explain to me what you were thinking? What were you expecting would happen? She’s had a rough time, I know it’s been a long time, but she will take time to get to trust you enough to speak more openly about these things,” Mary said.

“I just believe that talking will help us get over what happened before. I really feel it’s still an obstacle for her and it will not disappear if she doesn’t confront it,” he explained. “I… am ashamed to accept there were things I didn’t even know until she told me about them today. So there's that. With no communication nothing real will happen and you know that’s what I want with her. Something real,” he trusted his train of thought wasn’t irrational. It made sense, didn’t it?

“Ok. Makes sense. I’ll just assume she is safe for now because otherwise I’ll go mental, but if she still hasn’t said anything or came back when nightfall comes I want you to go out looking for her and I don’t care if they catch you. Invent some excuse. So you wanted to speak about the whole 2010 mess, the timing was terrible, and what’s done is done. How are you going to make this better? What did you find out today, can you do something about it?” 

“I don’t know, Mary. There’s… fuck, I was so stupid back then. So utterly stupid. It doesn’t even make sense to me now, what I was thinking when I was nineteen. Honestly.”

“Gilbert, you are not making any sense. What did you do back then that only now seems important and can’t be fixed? I thought it was all a communication thing. Mostly.”

“Well, yes. Mostly. Until she told me today she saw me with Winifred in the forest several times.”

“So what? Didn’t you go all the time to the forest?”

“Well… yes and no. With Anne, we had some places that we had deemed off limits to go with other people. Because they were special, and more secluded, and so we went there when we wanted to escape and not be seen.”

“Oh… so that’s where you used to go?”

“Yes. But that’s beside the point. Point is, I took Winifred there. Because it was secluded. Because we would not be seen,” he didn’t want to explain any more and hoped Mary would catch the idea.

“Gilbert Blythe you went to do what I think there with Winifred even though those were Anne spaces?!” Clearly she got the idea and Delly was still around. He sighed.

“Hence the  _ I don’t know what I was thinking _ ? I’m not proud of it, mind you. I wish I hadn’t done it. But here I thought no one knew about that and it figures Anne saw us. More than one time.”

“You took her more than… Gilbert Blythe!”

“Well, you wouldn’t let her into the house! And I already told you I’m not proud! Can we focus on how I can make this better, please?”

“Have you even admitted to her this happened? Like, fully acknowledged the subject and took responsibility for it?”

“Of course not, when would I have done that? I found out today, was in shock, we were in the middle of a fight and then she disappeared. So no, Mary. I haven’t said anything on that subject. I actually avoided it because I don’t know what to do about it. She’s right, I shouldn’t have taken her there”

“Well, start by that! Don’t give her details, I’m sure she doesn’t even want to know them and, if she saw you there with Winifred I’m sure she has more in her mind than she wished. But acknowledge what you did, admit you did it and ask for forgiveness. And then hope, Gilbert. I know you, and I know you didn’t do it with the purpose of hurting her but because you were a horny teen, but the matter of fact is that you did hurt her in her safe space. And that is hard for anyone, but imagine for someone who has precious little safe spaces. She had Green Gables. She had you. She had Cole and Diana. And she had that forest. So think about what you did while she comes back. Unless night starts to fall and then you go looking for her and god helps me you are to call me the minute she is back in that apartment of yours.”

“I really did fuck up more than I though, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Gilbert. Makes more sense the length of the grudge, now.”

“And then I wasn’t there… when Marilla and Matthew died. I didn’t go because Cole and Diana were convinced it would only make it worse. But today she tells me she was expecting me. At least when Matthew died, she had lost hope when Marilla did. And that’s another thing I can’t undo, Mary”

“Next time, follow your gut. And now, if she lets you, help her process the loss. Her moving all the way to BC makes me think she has not really done it.”

“She just keeps burying everything, Mary. She ignores the problems as if that’s the way to make them go away. It’s sick.”

“Then help her process the loss. If she’ll allow you. Show her you’ll be there. It will take time, Gilbert. Anne is not quick to trust, you already know that. And you take it one step at a time. Don’t push her, don’t push conversations, guide but let her set the pace.”

“What if there really is no hope in her forgiving me? What do I do then? I’ve managed, these years. But now that I had a glimpse of what life with her could be… I don’t know if I could go back.”

“If it comes to that, you’ll always have us. Remember that. We will help you through it as we did before. But don’t give up before trying, Gilbert. It’s not like you.”

“Right. Yes. Thank you. For listening, for everything,” Gilbert said. “I think… I think I’ll go try and cook something for when she comes back. She’ll be freezing. You’re the best.”

“We love you, Gilbert. Remember that”

“I do. And I love you all as well. I’ll let you know when she comes back.” 

“Hey, Di. Can you talk?” she said as soon as Diana picked up.

“Of course. Are you ok? What’s going on?”

“I… We got into a bad fight after we hung up with you guys. Like really bad. Gilbert yelling and you know he doesn’t yell,” she said quietly, a knot in her throat and tears pooling again in her eyes. She was so tired of crying.

“Oh, Anne. What happened? Want to talk about it?” Diana asked, notably worried. 

“It’s… I have been trying. For months. But I don’t know how to forgive him, Di. And then he denies stuff and acts as if I hadn’t seen anything and… He says there’s something going on between us, but I really don’t want to. I…”

“Anne, you’re rambling. What was this fight with Gilbert? Wait, Jerry, you can talk to her after, can’t…” she got off the phone and Anne heard some sort of discussion, but couldn’t make out the words. She hated when they spoke in French so she wouldn’t understand. 

“Anne, Jerry here. Sorry to interrupt. You have to stop this. Now,” he said, in his serious, old brotherly voice Anne knew so well and had come to love and hate. She stayed silent. She wanted to talk with compassionate, bosom friend Diana. Not with Jerry.

“Pass the phone back to Di?”

“Not happening. Not until you talk with me. What’s the matter now? What’s this fight about?”

“Jerry, pass the phone back to Diana,” she insisted.

“No, Anne. You’re talking with me today. Wife agrees and everything. So tell me. It’s not like I wouldn’t find out.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. You’re mean and cold and…”

“And I love you and I’ve been with you through thick and thin, so there’s that. We’re stuck with each other, if you remember well,” he insisted, referencing some of Marilla’s last words. Jerry had lived with them for the last years, after Matthew passed away and until they had to give Green Gables, and even if he had a giant family, he had become more of a Cuthbert than he would ever admit. Until Marilla brought the two of them together when she was so sick it pained them and asked them to never let go of each other. Anne groaned in response.

“It’s mean to play that card.”

“You said I’m mean, so it’s expected. So, your fight?”

“Ugh, I hate you sometimes. So nosy.”

“Anne, I’m not getting any younger here.”

“Fine! No judging, k? And don’t interrupt. We hung up, then Gilbert started saying that we should talk about what he thinks are the facts right now, and insisted on saying there’s something between us, that there isn’t, mind you. And then saying that what happened years ago was just a series of misunderstandings! As if I hadn’t seen them, Jerry! As if he hadn’t gotten around with Winifred for weeks! It grew from there and then we were just yelling and him telling me how hurt he is and I just told him how much it hurted, it still hurts, and how he was supposed to be when I needed him and he never was.”

“Well of course he’s hurt as well, Anne. He has always cared for you, even when you didn’t notice. It’s only normal that he hurts.”

“I don’t need you to defend him!”

“I’m not, not yet. I’m only saying that it’s normal that he is hurt as well. Look, I’ve never been close to him. Most days I don’t even like him. But he was in my class for most of school, until his father got sick. So I do know him and I’ve known him for way longer than you have. And he cared for you since you came to school. And then he changed completely just so you would notice him. He does care, Anne,” he insisted. She snorted. Of all the things, Jerry defending Gilbert Blythe…

“Where’s your brotherly loyalty?”

“Right here, don’t you worry. I do keep Marilla’s words present, mind you. How about yours?”

“Jerry! So not helping.”

“I am too. If you’d let me. So, we’ve established that he cared and still cares for you. Because that’s how Blythe men are, historically. Makes no sense, but they care for longer than it’s sensible and are ridiculously loyal. Or so I was told. Now, here’s where the brotherly loyalty comes in. Want to know what Marilla asked me, when she asked you out of the hospital room?” Anne felt cold. She had not expected this. It had seemed so, so strange when Marilla wanted a few minutes with only Jerry, when she had touched the most personal subjects with both of them there, seating next to each other. Diana in the waiting room. Jerry had never told her a word of what had happened there. “Marilla wanted me, of all people, to put some sense into you. Because she had tried for years and you wouldn’t listen, and she thought maybe, when the time was right, I would be able to get through you. And now the time is as right as it’ll ever be.”

“What in the world are you talking about?” asked Anne, her voice so quiet she was sure Jerry wouldn’t listen.

“I’m talking about you and Blythe. And Marilla wishing you would see it in your heart that Blythe would never purposely hurt you. That it is, indeed, a series of misunderstandings aggravated with teen hormones.”

“She couldn’t- she wouldn't."

“She did, Anne. I know you are stubborn but why on earth would I make this up? What’s in it for me? If you’re never with Blythe, fine by me. I don’t care for him, not after all you’ve suffered. I honestly think you deserve better and if it wasn’t because you started talking with him again because of this quarantine, I might never have broached the subject. And yet, here I am passing on the message of our mother figure: John Blythe’s son would never hurt on purpose.”

“I… I don’t know how to forgive him, Jerry. I have tried. I can’t.”

“Answer me this, then: do you think, for everything you know about Gilbert, that he would go out of his way to hurt anyone?”

“No,” she answered immediately. It was a preposterous idea, Gilbert hurting someone.

“Why would he want to hurt you, the only girl he paid attention to for years?” he asked. Anne was silent.

“He went with…”

“Stop the Winifred crap. I actually do believe you said something when drunk. Wouldn’t be beside you. And at the time, if you had told Blythe to jump off a building he would have. Answer me. Why would he want to hurt you?” he cut her. It was Jerry: he never minded interrupting her and giving her a piece of his mind. And being direct and blunt with everything.

“He was bored of me? I wasn’t enough?” she said, just because it seemed logical. She wasn’t sure of either thing, to be honest.

“What makes you think that, Anne?” asked Jerry. She was silent again. 

“He wasn’t there when I needed him…”

“Would you have been, if the situation was reversed?” She would not. If she had had all the calls, texts and absolutely everything turned down for years, she wouldn’t have called either. “What are you afraid of, honestly? Look deep inside you. In your heart. What would it take to understand that he isn’t the only one to blame and you have in your hands the option of making this right? Is it him you have to forgive? Or is it you who has to let go? You who has to forgive yourself for the role you played in all this?”

“I liked you better when you didn’t bring messages from the grave,” she answered, feeling unsettled. He did have a point. She had never stopped to think about... 

“Anne, damn, answer me the question,” said Jerry, who was clearly as uncomfortable with the conversation as she was. 

“I don’t know, Jerry! I never thought about this this way! It was always clear, but…”

“It’s in your hands, Anne. You won’t be able to forgive him if you don’t forgive yourself as well. Think of it as a package deal. And I’m not even talking about you going out with him, I’m talking about your mental health.”

“When did you get so smart?”

“Working the fields gives you much time to think,” he answered. “Anyway, sis. Go back to that git’s flat. I’m sure you’re on top of a tree and don’t know how to go back. Just do and give no explanation, but think about this, ok?”

“I’m not on top of a tree!” she said, getting off the log quickly.

“Then I’m sure it’s only because there are not any you can climb easily. Bye now. Let me know how it goes, I have an actual child to tend to. Love you.”

Gilbert heard the lock from the front door and got up quickly from the dining table where he had been trying to study, but by the time he got to the front of the house he heard the door of his bedroom close quietly. He sighed. Anne sat on the floor, against the door, lest Gilbert opened it. She didn’t want to talk with him, not yet. She had Jerry’s, and by extension Marilla’s word in her mind.

“Anne? Did everything go ok outside?” he asked. He wasn’t sure about asking her how she was, he thought it was evident that she wasn’t well.

“Yes. No one spoke to me,” she willed herself to answer.

“I’d like to talk to you, if you’d allow me? I feel I have some explaining and apologizing to do, and that you deserve,” he said.

“I’m not opening, Gilbert. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone,” she answered after a moment. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after she would be ready. When she figured how to let go, forgive him and forgive herself.

“I cooked some dinner. I’ll leave it in the microwave in case you get hungry,” he said, feeling terrible about everything. He turned to leave, but turned again. “I understand you don’t want to talk to me right now. But I’d rather not have you going hungry to bed. I won’t bother you if you come out to eat, I’ll be reading.” He went back to the living room and organized his bed and picked up his book before getting into the sheets.

Gilbert Blythe (20:37): She’s back. Apparently ok, didn’t get a chance to see her before she went into the room.

Gilbert Blythe @Family (20:37): She’s back. Apparently ok, didn’t get a chance to see her before she went into the room.

Fred (20:38): Thanks for letting me know. See you tomorrow? We can get a coffee over this.

Gilbert Blythe (20:38): Sure thing.

Mary @Family (20:38): Thank god. Can I talk to her?

Gilbert Blythe @Family (20:38): Locked herself. Maybe call her on her phone?

Mary @Family (20:39): Gilbert, I’m going to call you and you are passing the phone to her. You both are not fifteen.

Bash @Family (20:39): Listen to my wife, bro.

He looked at the phone. For adding dramatism and so Anne couldn’t say it was a ruse, he turned on the volume and waited. Just then he heard the door from his bedroom open, and Anne came out, clad in her tiny shorts, but still his old hoodie. She went straight to the kitchen, sight on the floor, shoulders down. He heard the tell-tale bips of the microwave and then its noise. His phone rang, making him jump even if he had been expecting it.

“Hi there,” he answered. 

“So, is she ok?” Mary insisted.

“I think so. She did say no one talked to her so she shouldn’t be in any trouble,” he explained. 

“Pass her on,” Mary said.

“Mary, honestly, it’s not necessary,” he said, hearing the timer go off in the kitchen.

“This is not for you, it’s for me, ok? Pass her on, Gilbert,” he sighed and got up, walking to the kitchen.

“Sorry to bother you… Mary’s on the line, she wishes to speak to you?” he said, fully expecting her to yell at him. She looked at him, surprised, and left the bowl she’d been eating from on the counter before extending her hand.

“Hi, Mary,” she said, voice neutral.

“Anne, honey, how are you?” Anne looked at Gilbert, closing her eyes slightly. How much had he told her? Now she had the Lacroix family knowing everything? Gilbert looked in bad shape, if she was being honest. He turned and busied himself with putting water to boil.

“I’m ok, considering,” she decided. It was kind of honest but didn’t give that much away.

“Look, I’m honestly sorry to intrude. But I think it would be better for you if you heard what that git you live with has to say. It’s high time he apologized and when I talked to him this afternoon he seemed willing to do so,” Mary said, in a serious voice that implied she was not happy at all with Gilbert. Anne frowned.

“What did he tell you?” Gilbert closed his eyes. What was Mary saying to her?

“I don’t think it’s necessary that I go into the details. Let’s just say he said enough he got a scolding from both me and Bash, and here we thought he had overgrown that,” Anne huffed. “Seriously, dear. I’m not telling you to forgive him if you don’t want to. But at least listen to him. If anything, you can go your way as soon as PEI opens and we’ll remind him how utterly stupid he’s been.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” she confessed.

“What? Forgiving him? Or going away?”

“Both. Neither. I… I don’t think I can. I’m trapped in between,” she accepted. Gilbert put out a couple of cups and put a bag of her favourite chamomile in one, a spicy chai in the other. He tried not to think what Anne was trapped in. He only hoped it wasn’t him.

“You do realize you can do both?” 

“One depends on the other. I was talking with Jerry about it, actually. Well, not exactly, but the idea remains true enough,” she explained, and took a couple of spoonfuls of soup. Gilbert was learning something, this was nice. 

“Well, be as it may, just don’t clam up. It’s not good for you. And call us if you need anything. We’re not taking sides in this and if I was, I would be on your team. Got it?” Mary said.

“Got it,” she answered, before taking another spoonful. “I’ll call you one of these days.”

“Sure thing, Anne. Bash says hi, by the way, and Delly is crazy about meeting you.”

“She sounds like a dear,” Anne commented. 

“She is. Bye now. Love you,” said Mary and hung up. Anne looked left the phone on the counter and scraped the remains of the bowl. Wasn’t there any more of this? Gilbert had left a cup of tea for her and gone to the living room, not making a sound. She opened the door of the fridge and moved things around looking for any tupper that looked like soup. Humph. 

“Everything’s good?” He asked tentatively. Anne debated with herself for a second.

“Yes. Is there any more of that soup?”

“You liked it? I put it to the back so it would be in the way,” he said, crouching next to her and reaching to get a large tupper towards the back. “Here you have. I left you tea.”

“Yes. Thank you,” she said, feeling uncomfortable. She did know they had to talk. How to broach the subject was another thing altogether. He grabbed his phone and turned to leave, faithful to his word of not bothering her. She went back to the room and closed the door, frustrated with everything that had happened that day and with a talk in the tip of her mouth that refused to come out. It felt like a whole week.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll be back on Saturday, promise! What are your thoughts on this?
> 
> We know several countries are imposing new lockdowns for Christmas... We hope everyone is safe and at home.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!
> 
> Here we go with the next chapter. Things are slowly evolving... We do hope you like the direction in which they're headed. Let us know in the comments what you think! We always, always appreciate them.
> 
> The music is here! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5oWgi9eMJYbkLuLyYWvse9?si=bMizDfDLQtuvxKgeYQwc3g

She wanted to go home, only she didn’t know what that was anymore. The world as she knew it wasn’t anymore and she certainly didn’t know what to do with the new one. She longed to be able to forgive Gil, because she could see the truth in what Mary and Jerry, but above all, her heart, told her. But she was so scared and did not know how to look at him and not see Winifred and the void he had left when he didn’t appear at Matthew’s funeral and the rest of the tragedies of her life.

What bothered her the most about seeing Winifred in him was that she wasn’t even able to say he had cheated on her; they had never been together. The most she could say was that he’d had sex with Winifred in their special places and, much as it pained her to say, they were also his. To this day, she had no idea how his kisses were. How he expressed his passion. What it felt like to be loved by him. And it ashamed her to say she still wanted to know that, even after all these years. Even more now that she had seen how he ended growing up and maturing. The look of him in the towel that morning, ugh.

**Anne S-C (21:18): I hate you ☹

**Cole (21:23): l don’t think you hate me. Plus, you’re living your best life now. 😘

**Anne S-C (21:25): It’s not my best life, Cole. I’m unemployed, homeless and I don’t even know what to do with my life. I feel trapped. I don’t know what to do with him. We had a huge fight and I ran away until Jerry of all people told me to come back here. And I actually paid him attention.

**Cole (21:26): You are not homeless, as he clearly has no problem receiving you for the time being. You are unemployed, yes, but you hated your job anyway and wanted time to write your book. So write! Look at this thing as an opportunity. And what is it about that fight and Jerry?

**Anne S-C (21:27): After that damn call the gang set up because of you, he wanted to talk about us, what was happening… ugh, I don’t even want to repeat it. We said some things we should have said long ago, we both yelled, I stormed off and Jerry steals Diana’s phone and gets all older brother on me.

**Cole (21:27): Gilbert Blythe yelled?!

**Anne S-C (21:27): I’m telling you! Huge fight! When have you seen Gilbert Blythe yell?

**Cole (21:27): But everything’s better now? Got out your frustrations and will be able to carry on with life?

**Anne S-C (21:27): Maybe if I follow Mary’s and Jerry’s advice. Ugh. Bad night, Cole. Bad day in general. From the moment I woke up at three in the morning until now, everything has been just so hard.

**Cole (21:28): Want to talk about it? I can call you. I’m next to Roy, so if you’re up to two gay men cheering you up, by all means.

“Hey,” she said in a low voice, putting on her earphones and watching her dear friends all cuddled up on a sofa, the phone probably propped in the knees of one of them. She still wasn’t sure, but she felt everything could be heard on the other side of the walls of the apartment. 

“My darling Anne! What happened?” asked Roy in his usual tone, worry darkening his eyes even more than usual. She sighed.

“Everything? Name one thing that could happen to me while living with Gilbert and you’re probably right. No sex, mind you, I have enough with Charlie’s tactless jokes. I just want to know what to do, really. And I know it’s not your place to tell me. But if you have any advice that doesn’t involve forgiveness, communication and letting go, I’m all ears because I’ve heard enough of those already and I do know they’d work, if I were to go down one path. I’m just not sure which one to go down on,” she said, getting up and going to the window. It was dusk, now.

“Easy peasy!” said Roy, and Anne looked at him on the screen, snorting at the absurdity of him talking like that. “I’m trying to incorporate lighter words, Anne, so don’t laugh,” he said. “Can’t very well be a primary teacher talking like a highschool literature teacher, so I have to adapt somehow…”

“What’s your easy peasy advice, Roy?” said Anne, trying not to smile. Roy was such a dear. Why had he chosen to teach younger kids he couldn’t stand was a mystery to her, but that he wanted to learn words so they would understand and like him more was so endearing she couldn’t stand it.

“Same as mine, Nan. You just follow what your heart tells you,” Cole said, before his boyfriend could say anything.

“Yeah, right. My heart only gets me into trouble, I’ve been living by reason. It’s predictable. It works. The heart got me into this trouble to begin with, remember?”

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, stop this nonsense now. You are not a rational being so stop believing that charade,” Roy chastised her. She was about to answer when Cole added. 

“And go shower, if you actually stormed off I’m sure you were lying down on the floor of a park. Full of dirt, not conducive to getting into bed. You have a pine needle in your hair… there,” he motioned to a corner of the screen and Anne squinted to see her tiny image. Yep, only Cole would notice that. She took the pine needle off and let it on the dresser. “And it was evident you had just gotten up. Or were up to something just before we called. Believe me, Charlie was mild with the comments compared to what was crossing my mind,” Anne let out a nervous laugh. Because yes, she had just gotten up, but were they up to something? She couldn’t tell. Wouldn’t say. “Anything you want to confess? Why are you wearing Gilbert’s clothes?”

“Is it too evident that the hoodie is his? We all know I use big hoodies... I couldn’t find mine and yes, I was still in my pajamas. Marilla’s pajamas,” she mumbled the end.

“Everyone knew it was his. He bought it when he came last winter, one day we went Christmas shopping and then to grab a drink. The whole gang was there, save for you, and he put it on after he spilled a beer over his sweater,” Roy explained. “I remember telling him it looked cozy and Cole here then gifted me a similar one, under the condition I didn’t use it out of the house.”

“Shit. Of all the things I could have found…” said Anne. She wasn’t expecting that.

“That’s what I’m telling you. Everyone knew. And Charlie was mild. And I can’t even believe you let him see you in that flimsy thing. Is it your purpose to torture him?” Cole insisted, moving a bit so he could hug Roy, who curled in his chest.

“I forgot I was wearing it. And he should be the one concerned about torturing me, walking shirtless should be criminal,” she said sitting crossed legged on the bed, more relaxed now that she’d been since Gilbert woke her up in the afternoon.

“Do tell,” Roy said, leaning forward, and Cole zapped him playfully. Anne felt herself flush.

“It was a coincidence, really. I went to the kitchen at three in the morning to prepare a cup of chamomile and it coincided with the time he was getting ready for work. He’s on morning shifts, so he goes early, don’t know what time. Anyway, he obviously wasn’t expecting me up and about, so he walked in only a towel… Guys, I’m telling you. Criminal. Not fair.” 

“Look at her, all made up in a knot,” Roy said to Cole in a low voice, but Anne still managed to make the words. She had experience overhearing little kids conversations from the other side of the classroom, after all.

“I’m not in a knot!”

“You are, Anne, and you know it. You don’t have to tell us, but take advantage of your situation or god help us, we’re going to Hamilton to put a stop to your stubbornness and lock you up in a room with Gilbert. Wait. You’re already locked in a flat with him. Again, take advantage of the situation? Just think of the mind-blowing sex he must have stored after so many years of just wanting you,” Cole insisted, Anne flushing even more.

“Just imagine, love. Gilbert Blythe in bed. Remember last summer how he was all marked up? I would be in a bad shape if I were in Anne’s situation now, wanting him and those curls and stopping just because I’m stubborn…” Roy continued, mischief so evident in his eyes Anne decided it was enough. They were so not helping with any of her mental images of what she’d seen, what she imagined, and, most importantly, what she really wanted.

“Both of you, enough! No one is saying anything about sex with Gilbert or how great it could be or anything so just stop! You are not helping with the situation! And you both know sex is not that great!”

“Helping with the situation? Darling Anne, you do know how to take care of yourself if you don’t want to go to Gilbert. Do so, then. No one ever got hurt for doing it,” Roy said, dead serious face. Anne knew better. But he had a point. “And you know the only problem you’ve have with sex is going with all the wrong guys.”

“Ugh!” they both laughed and shook hands, as if they’d accomplished something.

“In all seriousness, Anne. Take care of yourself. Follow your heart. Shower. And tell us how good he is once you have the guts to go for it.”

“I’m going now. Ending this nonsense. Love you both. Bye,” she said and hung up. She lay down on the bed for a couple of minutes before deciding the shower really was a good idea. She gathered her things and went to the bathroom, not seeing Gilbert around.  _ Take care of herself. _

She got into the hot spray, trying very hard to forget about the day but failing miserably. The more she wanted to forget, the more she heard Charlie’s voice. Ruby’s illusion. Josie’s skepticism. Gilbert’s explanations, but also the frustration and hurt evident in his voice. She groaned loudly and sat on the tub, hugging her knees, not standing it anymore. Maybe she could stay there, under the water, for the rest of the night. It wasn’t like anything was going to change. She could drown in there and it would be fine. Not make any difference.

Some minutes passed.

Maybe she could acknowledge, now that she was safely away from Jerry, Cole, Mary, Roy and everyone else, that she still liked Gilbert more than she cared to admit. She was scared as shit to let him in again, yes, but that didn’t mean she was not so attracted to him; it made her warm inside to just think of him. She remembered the morning, when he had appeared clad in nothing but that towel, still a bit wet from the shower.  _ Take care of herself, _ Roy had said. And he did have a point. She thought of the soft firmness of Gilbert’s arms hugging her, how steady and strong he always felt. And his breath on the back of her neck in the morning, when he had lulled her back to sleep, enveloped in his scent. The goosebumps she felt then and how scarily right everything had been. And then the other day when he had handed her the blender and she had felt him flush against her back. God. To this day she was sure he had done it on purpose. 

She closed her eyes, remembering how his torso had looked, the hot spray still falling and enveloping her. Tentatively, she moved her hand to her center and found it, rather than drenched from the water, wet from her own excitement. She sighed, moving her fingers in circles, and feeling pleasure come to her, building slowly, steadily. When he was on top of her, had she imagined the look he had in his eyes? The hunger? She continued moving, daring to insert one finger in herself, her breathing now a bit ragged as she felt herself come even closer to climax, Gilbert’s eyes staring at her inside her mind, doing everything she would never admit out loud she wanted. Touching her. Imagining her hands were his. Building up, she came stronger than she had in years, biting her lips so as to not let any sound escape them, waves of pleasure traversing her.

Anne regained her breath slowly and continued washing herself methodically, trying not to think about what she had done, but feeling better and more relaxed than she had in the whole afternoon. She sighed as she rinsed the soap of her skin. It wasn’t the thought of touching herself. She had done that countless times before and it was the only way she had ever come, never during actual sex with anyone. It wasn’t that that was troubling her.

It was how strong and powerful her orgasm had been just by thinking of Gilbert. 

“Still nothing with Anne?” Fred asked him one night they were hanging out in the grass that stretched next to the hospital parking lot, neither of them eager to go back home. Ella was in a zoom meeting the whole afternoon and Fred hated those, because he could not make any noise in the house. Apparently the old place made squeaking sounds everywhere. Gilbert didn’t want to go and face Anne’s closed door again. 

“No, Freddie. She’s locked in the room again, like those first few weeks,” he answered. “Any progress I had made, it’s gone know. I feel so stupid you can’t imagine.”

“Maybe I can. I won’t tell. Ella’s been asking about you, by the way. Apparently she misses having someone serious around. And Bear might actually forget you,” Gilbert snorted.

“I would go visit if I could, you know that. Sometimes I don’t know if being able to actually leave the house is better or not.”

“Of course it’s better. Can you imagine yourself locked down with Anne 24/7?” Fred asked. Then he laughed out loud. “Forget it, you should be locked with her 24/7. Maybe that way you could see her, she has to go out of that room of yours at some point. And then…”

“Better to stop it, Wright. Not in the mood,” Gilbert cut him, his voice strained. He had so much frustration in him these days he felt ready to jump at anything. And he wasn’t about to listen anyone else tell him how having sex with Anne would be the solution to his problems. It might be a part of it (he was not going to deny it) but it wasn’t either attainable or realistic as of now. So, out of discussion. They stayed silent for a few minutes.

“Has her proof of address come yet? I just have an idea for you. And you’d owe me big time if it works,” Gilbert blinked. He hadn’t actually checked the mailbox for days.

“I don’t know. I had completely forgotten about it. What’s that big idea of yours?”

“Take her out for a stroll. You’re not going to let her take the bus to get to a Service Ontario, are you?”

“Are you mental? She’s not going on a bus. Not while in my house when there’s a pandemic around,” he said.

“That’s what I thought. So, take her to the one over at Grimsby and take advantage of the ride. Make use of the loophole: if she’s going to make an official thing, she can be out. Take her to Beamer’s, no one is going to be around and she can see something different that’s more familiar to her. You told me she lived for the woods, right? If a police officer stops you, then say you’re coming back from the OHIP thing and that’s it.”

“Freddie, you’re an actual genius. Thanks for the idea,” he said, more excited he had felt in weeks. “I’m taking off, now. I just want to see if her statement came in,” he got up.

“Blythe! You told me you’d wait until Ella finished!”

“Don’t be so spoiled. Read a book. Do something useful, go home, take Bear for a walk,” Gilbert answered as he unlocked his car. “I’m off tomorrow, see you on Thursday?”

“Off then. Send me a message and we’ll have lunch another day.”

The apartment was eerily calm when he came in, as it had been since the day they had fighted. However, Gilbert didn’t follow his usual pattern and instead, after taking off his shoes and changing, went straight for Anne’s closed door. He knocked lightly.

“Hello, Anne. May I come in for a moment? There’s some mail for you and I’d like to propose something to you,” he said quietly. He could hear some low music in the background and the sound of the keyboard that stopped as soon as he started talking.

“Sure. Come in,” she answered, grabbing the hoodie she had been using and putting it on top of the camisole she had already changed into. She saw him for the first time in days, huge bags under his eyes, a stubble, hair shabbier than ever with not one hairdresser open in Ontario. “Are you ok?” she asked before realizing.

“What? Yeah, sure,” he answered quickly. He didn’t want to let her know how much this whole mess was affecting him. “So, for your mail. You got this,” he said, walking to the bed and sitting far from her, extending a bank envelope. She left the laptop on the bed and received it.

“Oh, great,” she answered. She had actually forgotten about it. She opened it and scanned the statement inside. For all the time she had gone without any income, she had spent surprisingly little.

“I’m off tomorrow. So here’s the plan, if you’d accept: we go early to Service Ontario and you get your OHIP sorted out. That should be quick. I’ll take you over to the Grimsby office. We take advantage of being outside and having a valid, official excuse and I take you somewhere else for a change of scenery. If someone stops us, we have your papers as an excuse.”

“Where are you taking me? Where’s Grimsby?” she asked, looking a bit wary.

“Grimsby is about half an hour from here. Then it’s a surprise, but I promise you’ll like it,” he said. She stayed silent. She had been thinking of how to talk with him. It was much easier to lock herself in his room, but it was tiring and it would take them nowhere. And he looked in a bad shape, that she didn’t know if it could be attributed only to the hospital stress. “So, what do you say?” Gilbert asked, as she didn’t answer.

“It sounds good. Should be good to go out. Will we be long?”

“I’m not sure, really. It really depends on you,” he said. “The OHIP errand will be an hour max, depending on how crowded it is and then the rest is flexible. Why? Do you need to be here by some time?”

“No, just wanted to know if I should pack us something to eat. I’m guessing not much is open to grab something?” Gilbert nodded. That was a good idea. Well, everything was sorted out, now. He didn’t want to move, though, feeling better in his house than he had felt for days with her talking calmly to him. She bit her lip, thinking. She took air to speak, but instead sighed. She didn’t know how to begin. Maybe wait until tomorrow, in case it went badly again? Gilbert watched her.

“Everything ok?” he asked. She nodded slowly, absent minded. “Look, Anne…” 

“I know. We have to sort this out. I’m…” she sighed again and he waited. “I don’t know if I’m ready, though.”

“Could… maybe could I talk, and you listen?” he tried gently. Anne looked at him. She could try that. She bit her lips and nodded, almost imperceptibly. “Please, hear me out then. It’s not an easy subject for either of us and I’m not proud of any of it,” she nodded, her eyes on the floor, hugging her knees. “I’ve been thinking about what you mentioned, about seeing Winifred and me in the forest. I… didn’t know until then that you had seen us. And it pains me, because you have all the right to feel betrayed. I should have never taken her there, to our spaces. It didn’t matter that I thought you didn’t want to be with me, those spots were more important. I was… There’s no better explanation, even if it’s crude and not enough, than to say I just wanted to have sex and that’s the best place I could think of at the moment. I was not thinking of the consequences. Mary wouldn’t let Winifred in the house. It is a very poor excuse and it by no means justifies what I did. It probably makes it worse. But I can’t undo that now, even if I want to,” he explained, his voice strained as he forced the words to come out of his mouth. “It should have never happened. And I don’t know how to make it better. I wish I did, but I don’t,” he added after a moment, Anne still silent. She was looking at the pattern of the wood of the floor. She didn’t know either how to make it better. Well, it helped that he was not denying it. That helped. Gilbert stayed there. He would stay, until she kicked him out or until she spoke.

“That helps,” she said after a while. He looked at her, not understanding. “You, saying it out loud. Makes me think I didn’t imagine it.”

“You didn’t, Anne. It’s… I almost wish you did, because then it would not have happened. But I can’t express how much I regret it. I wouldn’t have done it if I had thought at the moment how much it would hurt you. I just… wasn’t being rational, then,” he insisted.

“So you… you never thought about hurting me?” she asked, remembering Jerry’s words.

“I was horny and Winifred was willing,” he replied bluntly. He knew he was being unceremonious, but at least he was being honest: he was not going to embellish the truth. Anne didn’t say anything. “I was not thinking about the impact my actions would have on you or anyone else. I was being selfish and immature. I would have acted differently if I had stopped to think for only two seconds.”

“So, no?” she insisted. She needed to hear it from him.

“Never, Anne. I would never purposely hurt you. I couldn’t. Same as on graduation. I didn’t see Billy Andrews, or else he would have gotten a piece of my mind. I don’t know what would make you think of me wanting to hurt you, but it is not possible for me to do it on purpose. Being a reckless, immature git, evidently I can. But never on purpose.” Why was that so hard for her to understand? He knew she had always been insecure, but… He had worked so hard all through middle school and high school so she would trust him. Only to shatter it at the end, of course. Shit. 

“Never on purpose?” she asked. “How can I know you won’t do it again?”

“Because I lost you once and it’s been the biggest regret of my life. If you’ll find it in you to allow me in your life again, in whatever way you like, I won’t make the same mistakes again,” he answered honestly, stretching his hand to rest it on her arm. She looked at him in the eyes and could actually believe what he said. Jerry and Marilla were right. Mary as well. She looked at his hand, and didn’t say anything, staying in silence repeating in her mind the words he had just said. Gilbert watched her, until he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Anne?”

“It’s going to take a while,” she said. He frowned, not understanding what she meant. “For me to come to terms with everything, I mean. I believe you, I truly do, I’m just wary of all this.”

“I can understand that. But if you could only try… try for real, acknowledging I was a shitty teen and made mistakes, but that I learnt from them… Do you think you could do that?” he asked, more hopeful than he had felt in years. Because this would not be like last month, when she said she would try. This would be her trying to forgive him, all the cards on the table. The nice ones but also the most horrible ones. This would be hard, and probably slow, but real. And real sounded really nice now.

“I can. May I ask you something in return?”

“Anything you want,” he said immediately.

“Have patience with me. I want this to work. I have missed you more than you can tell. But that doesn’t mean it’s going to be a straight road ahead,” she said, because she was sure there would be days when the only thing she would see in him was Winifred and days when she would see her dear old friend Gilbert. He nodded. He could be patient if it meant having her, even if as a friend. He retrieved his hand and sat there for a moment before standing up, the conversation clearly over. He went to the door. He was hungry and wanted to look for something to eat.

“Should I close the door?” he asked, just to see if anything was really going to change. Anne smiled a bit, almost imperceptibly.

“No, leave it open. I’ll go in a minute and have tea while you eat,” she said. He nodded, smiling openly, and went to warm his dinner.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Just a few end notes:  
> The OHIP is Ontario's Health Insurance Plan. It usually has a three month wait period but because of Covid it has been suspended, and once you apply you're completely covered. You need some documents to get the coverage, which is free under the province... whatever is called. So:  
> -One document is a proof of address (the one Anne got on the mail)  
> -One document that proves your Canadian status (so for Anne, her birth certificate which she carries around because it's an important document when you're moving all across the country)   
> -One document that supports your identity (like her passport or a credit card).  
> The whole errand really depends on how many people there are in the office, but it can be as short as ten minutes, then you get a paper which says you're covered in case you get sick before your card arrives on the mail. Card will be there about two weeks later. And all Covid related stuff is covered (as well as general health stuff).  
> So there's you Canadian tidbit of information for today.


	10. Chapter10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? But it's Tuesday! And yet, we're here with a new chapter.... We guess this year you were all nice and wore masks and all? Hohoho! Santa came early to this story. Happy Christmas week! :)
> 
> We're publishing today, Thursday and Saturday. A little gift for all of you as a thanks for all the support you've given us these past few weeks. It's been amazing sharing this story with you, read all your theories, outrage and encouragement. We love every minute of it. And keep sending messages back and forth every time any of you leaves a message. We feel very grateful about all of this, truly. 
> 
> Now, because this story wouldn't be the same without music, and because some of you try to decipher a chapter before reading it based on our choice of songs... here you have today's playlist. Even if it feels anti-climatic that it doesn't have any Christmas carols. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Aezv6I8SIVTx3DtrwgoWi?si=p48sTZO7Qb6UqQI7Y04XJQ
> 
> Also, important today: we do have a trigger warning for some past abuse and dissociation. Please, if this resonates with you, reach out to someone you trust and talk if you need to. Have something warm and comforting.
> 
> Now... that's it for today. Let us know what you think and take care this holiday week. Do lots of zoom conferences with your loved ones and maybe even a cookie decorating competition in one of them. Above all, take care.

They arrived at Service Ontario early and there wasn’t any wait line. Gilbert got out of the car with her, after giving her a facemask. He had ordered some reusable ones and they had been in his mailbox when he had retrieved Anne’s statement the day before. They put them on (he had found some pretty ones with flowers for her, and she seemed happy and grateful in the morning) and went to the door. The officer at the door looked at them.

“Hello dears!” the office in the door greeted them. It was a plump woman in her forties, all smiles and kindness. “Are you both coming for something?”

“I’m sorting out my OHIP? I just moved…” the woman nodded, still smiling.

“And you?” she asked Gilbert.

“Oh, I’m just with her, I drove here,” Gilbert explained.

“I’m sorry, dear, but only you can go inside. Your husband will have to wait for you outside,” the woman said. Both flushed violently.

“He’s not…” Anne tried to say. Gilbert lost his words.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. You just both look so good together, I’m sorry to have assumed that. You are together though? You’re not supposed to drive if it’s not with people from your same household… I mean, I understand if you’re not married, but you are together, right?”

“We live together,” Gilbert answered confidently. They weren’t together, but they weren’t breaking any rules either. The woman nodded, unperturbed. For her, they were together. “I’ll wait for you in the car, Anne.”

“Come along, then, I’ll show where to take your turn. Take some sanitizer first...,” the woman said, a sweet voice, guiding Anne inside and stopping at the sanitizer station. Anne dutifully received the pump of disinfectant and rubbed her hands, willing the sticky liquid to go away quickly. “So, you live with him? So lucky of you. Both of you, I must say. A feast for the eyes. Seriously not together? You would look good. Imagine the babies!” she continued, not allowing Anne to say a word. “Have you seen his buttocks? Oh, dear, how do you live with him?” 

“What?” she was confused by then. She never thought she would get dizzy at any amount of talking, but this was too much for her. She was not talking about Gilbert’s buttocks with anyone.

“Your man, dear. The one you say you’re not with. You should be. Take my advice, dear, grasp him while you can. Perfect timing for you now, with lock down and everything… OHIP, you said?” Anne nodded, mortified. She could see Gilbert from the window, who was making faces at her, trying to check if everything was ok. She tried to convey how desperate she was and he just started laughing. The woman pushed the screen quickly and waited while it printed the number. “Here you have, they’ll call you soon enough. Take my advice, dear. He is a catch. Make babies with him. They’ll have the cutest eyes and red hair. Just cut his hair. He’ll be even more handsome. Or is he trying to emulate our Prime Minister?”

“Everything sorted out?” Gilbert asked when she came back to his car. He was in the parking lot, a book on his lap.

“Yes. I have a paper that says I’m covered as of now, and then the card should be coming in the mail in a couple of weeks” she answered, showing him the paper. He scanned it quickly and nodded.

“Perfect. What was the officer talking about? You looked positively uncomfortable,” he said, out of curiosity. From his vantage point it had seemed like the most entertaining mute movie.

“Babies? And you? I don’t even know. Can we go, please? I want my surprise,” she said, trying to forget the whole episode and excited about where Gilbert was taking her.

“Right! Now for the fun part. We’re five minutes away,” he said, smiling, ignoring Anne’s comments. Suddenly he didn’t want any more details and he was excited at the prospect of taking Anne to a conservation area so she could breathe and expand a little. He started the car and drove humming contently. Since the night before, both seemed much more comfortable with the other. Not like they had been when they were teens, it would be months for that to happen, but at least they felt they didn’t have to watch each word.

Not five minutes later he turned and went into a deserted parking lot, and looked for the most secluded spot. Anne was looking around, beyond excited, still not believing he was taking her to a forest. He stopped the car and Anne got down immediately, turning around, marvelling at the blue May sky, the trees that looked ever so green, the sounds of the forest, the songs of the birds. She breathed deeply, as if she hadn’t done it for years.

Gilbert smiled softly at her. She had reacted just as he had hoped. He did owe Fred something. He took out his phone and texted quickly before reaching for the backpack Anne had organized with water and some sandwiches.

**Gilbert Blythe (10:18): I owe you lunch. Now don’t get cheeky.

“I take it you like it?” he asked her, putting on the backpack. She laughed carelessly.

“Like it? Gilbert, are you even looking around? This is the most perfectly glorious change of scenery you could ever think of!” she said.

“Well, this is the parking lot,” he chuckled. “Come, the main path is this way,” he led the way, Anne followed him, taking everything in. She had never been so long without a careless trek in a forest. Her escapade two weeks ago didn’t count. The place was absolutely vacant. Anne followed Gilbert’s lead, as he evidently had been there several times, and he took her off the main path towards smaller, less clear ones.

Unconsciously, they soon fell into the soft, quiet steps they used to take when they were trekking in Avonlea’s surrounding forest, trying their best not to make noise so not to scare the animals away. They walked in silence, as they used to do, a camaraderie they hadn’t felt in years back in full bloom. Anne breathed deeply, enjoying both the pure air and the feeling of him beside her, thinking how easy everything would be if they could just do this all day long.

Gilbert watched her from time to time, glad to see how more relaxed she was with each step. She looked more and more as the Anne he remembered, the one that had inspired the fairy Anne stories he had told Delly since she was born. He let her wander in front of him once they were in the secondary path he knew was the most unpopular one, as it was the one with the steepest slope. The chances of meeting anyone on a normal day were slim, today probably nonexistent. Hands in his pockets, he watched her go off the path to look at the details of a tree that was just beginning to blossom, then to pick up a small pine cone. He looked out for her, lest she would get too close to the fall they had on one side.

In the middle of the forest, he thought about how little seemed to have changed. How similar they were, both in their attitudes and in their relationship. If nothing had happened when they finished high school, would they have gotten together at some point? Would they still be, or would the relationship have run its course by now? Maybe it was better this way. To reconnect and value what they had before with the maturity experience and years brought them

“Anne? Come this way, I want to show you something,” Gilbert said. She turned and followed him down the hill until they reached a cliff with one of the best views of the park that covered Grimsby, the forest they were in and lake Ontario. He heard her gasp and turned to watch her awed face next to him. He smiled softly. “Come, we can sit over there,” he said, walking towards the edge.

They sat, their feet hanging in the void, and he left his backpack next to him. They stayed in silence for a while, hearing only the wind and the birds. It was one of the last cold days of spring, most of the trees already blooming or with shy green leaves. She rested her head on his shoulder and he brought her closer, an arm across her back.

“Sometimes I wish I could freeze moments like these… but then I think of all the other spectacular views I wouldn’t get to get acquainted with and...,” she said quietly, trailing off. He chuckled. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s perfect.”

“You were withering all locked down. Had to take you out to nature,” he commented looking at the lake, his hand tentatively caressing her arm. She scooted closer to him, the wind chilly and the familiar warmth of his body comforting. He rested his head on hers. “This is one of my favourite places around here. It reminds me of home, helps me calm the mind,” he confided after a while.

“I can understand why. Lake Ontario doesn’t have the magnificence of the sea, but it has a lovely personality nonetheless,” she acquiesced. He nodded. “I used to go north of Vancouver to some parks to trekk over the weekends. You would absolutely love them, they had the most incredible contrasts. They were perfect for escaping another week of mindless teaching.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking… what happened? I always thought you wanted to teach, when did that change?” he asked. When she didn’t answer immediately he scolded himself for intruding. Maybe he should have waited before asking such personal questions. 

“It’s not the teaching that I don’t like,” she finally answered. “It’s more something of a personal issue with the philosophy of teaching and different pedagogies,” she explained.

“Ok…? I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about the subject,” he accepted.

“That’s fine, I guess I can explain. You see, how regular schools are?” she asked. 

“Like ours? The schedules, and grades and everything?”

“Yes. That exactly. How they look only at the performance of students in general but not anything about any student in particular,” he nodded. They had hated that back then, when they were in school. Anne was at a loss in many of the classes, clashing horribly with the impersonal, methodic and abstract method Mr. Phillips used in most of the classes. A downside of living in a little town, most classes had the same teacher. “Well… It’s just that. I can’t agree with that. Not from a student perspective, not from a teacher’s one. They keep grading us based on the performance of students. It’s reductionist both for the students and everyone else that is involved. Every person down to a number. Not how they are, how they’re developing, but looking only at GPAs. It isn’t human, Gilbert. It’s… like an assembly line and it's disheartening to look at all the lost potential of every kid there,” she explained.

“But surely not all schools are like that,” he said. They couldn’t be. He had always thought Avonlea was an isolated case. Anne snorted.

“Well, of course not. It depends largely on the principal, if it’s a public school. For a private one you get all sorts of options and philosophies and…. everything you can imagine. I’m sure you’ve heard something, even if it’s in passing.”

“Like what?”

“Montessori doesn’t ring a bell? Waldorf?” she asked. He thought for a moment.

“I think Bash mentioned something for Delly…? But I’m not sure, to be honest. I wasn’t paying much attention. I take it you like those?”

“Not all. They all have different takes on how kids grow and how to teach them and why. Then there are schools that combine different approaches and even parents who decide to take their kids off school because they just don’t agree with something in the system. Which is equally valid.”

“So where would you teach? What kind of school?” he asked.

“If I could get my pick? A Waldorf school. Ideally grade school. But that’s a futile dream,” she said sadly. Gilbert frowned. Why would she sound so defeated? If there was any job for a Waldorf school or whatever, he was sure she would get it. She was just that brilliant.

“Why is that?”

“You need a certification. Certifications are expensive when you are paying rent and everything else, and public school teachers aren’t paid much, Gilbert. I don’t have that much money to pay for that on top of regular expenses. Want a sandwich?” she asked, changing the subject completely. He nodded, absent minded, thinking quietly. He would look more into this thing. If anyone deserved anything, it was his Anne. 

**Gilbert Blythe (16:30): Hey 

**Bash (16:34): Hi hi hi Gilly boy! What’s up? Btw, I am this close to finishing a deal to export Blythe’s Orchard to the US.

**Gilbert Blythe (16:35): What? Great! I thought it would take forever!

**Bash (16:35): Not when you have me taking care of stuff, you wound me. Good prices and everything. I’ll tell you the details later this week. So, everything’s going good and smooth with Queen Anne? Finally talking again? Or did you get into another fight already?

**Gilbert Blythe (16:36): Good for you, oh great negotiator. Save the details for the call. 

**Gilbert Blythe (16:36): It’s been much better. She finally agreed to talk the other day and it’s been improving every day. I took her to get her insurance a couple of days ago and took her to a trail. Remember the nice one with the view?

**Bash (16:37): Are you even allowed to do that?

**Gilbert Blythe (16:37): Loopholes, Bashy, loopholes. We had a valid excuse to be out and no one was around the trail. So it was good. She needed it, you can’t quite keep Anne away from nature for that long. 

Bash (16:38): True enough. 

Gilbert Blythe (16:38): So we were talking… about her work and everything. I wanted to ask you because my memory is terrible, but have you ever mentioned something about Delly going to a different school? What was it?

**Bash (16:39): Either Waldorf or Montessori. Mary wants one, I want the other. We’ll see who wins. Why?

**Gilbert Blythe (16:40): She was telling me about how she dreams to teach at one of those Waldorf schools but she has to get a certification or something. I didn’t want to appear like a complete moron so I didn’t ask for more details. What does Waldorf imply?

**Bash (16:45): Oooooh she’s on my team then. I will win this now. Waldorf focuses on teaching for the heart, hands and head. Meaning they take into account the whole kid and treat them as kids. And they do so mainly through nature, arts, imagination… that’s the rough idea. Anne should do that. She’s born to do so, I can tell. 

**Gilbert Blythe (16:46): It sounds good. Anywhere I can look for more details?

**Bash (16:46): Blythe, internet exists. Use it. 

And so he did. He read and researched in his free time at the hospital, with Fred making teasing comments, but the more he read the more he was convinced Anne had to go back to study. She would be in her element. Teaching through stories? Using the imagination every day? Going to nature? How come he had never heard about this before?

He went down on an Instagram rabbit hole and ended looking at all sorts of toys and prompts and books. Would she hate him if he started getting stuff like this? He could always say it was for his place but that she could use it. That blackboard was so nice. And the building blocks. What could he do so she could study? Where did one go to get a certification on that, anyway?

Anne woke up with a start. She looked at the time: 12:20 am. She groaned. It was earlier this time. She had gone to sleep early, as she had gotten extra-early that day to sneak to the rooftop and see the sunrise and then had kept doing things around the apartment the whole day, not a minute of rest. But that didn’t take away the fact that the nightmares seemed to be coming back with strength, especially after all the emotions of the past few weeks. She wasn’t ready to give up and tried to go back to sleep.

She opened her eyes again, pulse racing. Ok, going to sleep again was not working tonight. She had fallen just at the same spot she had woken up before and it had gotten way worse than it usually was. She sat on the bed, breathing deeply, cold sweat in her forehead. She couldn’t go back to sleep now. Not if it meant going back to… No, she better get busy. She swallowed and got up, grabbing the hoodie she’s been using. She was not risking the same thing two times. Opening the door, she saw the flickering light of the tv on the back, the volume so low she almost couldn’t hear it.

She walked slowly to the kitchen, trying to go silently and ignoring the shapes she saw in the shadows. How she hated her over active imagination sometimes. She didn’t want Gilbert to see her like this, all sweaty and scared and pale from non-existent demons. She started filling the kettle when she heard a noise and jumped. She turned quickly, almost dropping the kettle.

“Anne, it’s only me, are you ok?” he asked, concerned, walking over to her and retrieving the kettle from her hands. He put it on the stove, turned it on quickly and looked at her. Disheveled, pale, scared, wide eyes. He knew that look. Without thinking, he closed the distance between them and hugged her tightly. She was trembling. What could she be dreaming about to get into this state? “Come, we’re going to the living room,” he said when she felt more stable, giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head and leading her to his bed. He guided her in and she stayed there, hugging her legs, the forehead in her knees. He heard the kettle. “I’ll be just a second. You’re safe here, ok?” she didn’t move, so he went and prepared some chamomile, putting plenty of honey and milk in it. When he came back she was in the exact same position.

“Here,” he said, offering her the tea. She received it automatically, her eyes lost. “Please talk to me. Get it off your mind. What was it?” she shook her head. She did not want to talk about it. That meant living it again. “Anne, please, look at me,” Gilbert insisted, starting to worry. This was not normal. He had never seen her like that after a nightmare. After one of the horrid orphanage flashbacks, yes. He tried reaching for her again but she started crying. He retrieved the cup and left it on the table before she spilled it and sat next to her, hugging her. She buried her face on his chest, crying inconsolably, Gilbert getting more worried by the minute and trying whatever he could think of to sooth her. “Anne, you’re safe now. It was not real. Whatever it was, it was not real and you’re safe here with me,” he said soothingly, even if he was scared as shit about what was happening. Maybe he could call Fred? He was the one who knew about the mind, not him. If only it wasn’t so late. Little by little, she calmed down after what seemed like hours. He looked at the clock on the wall: 1:08. 

“I made a mess of your shirt,” was the first thing Anne said when the sobs subsided. He was still hugging her, her face still against him. He chuckled, relieved to hear her.

“It doesn’t matter. See? t-shirt gone,” he said, taking it off and throwing it to the side. If only he could make her troubles disappear in the same fashion. He separated from her and gently took her face in his hands, examining it. At least the frightened look was gone, replaced by puffy eyes and a lot of redness. He cleaned the last of the tears with his thumbs. “Anne, you’re safe with me. I promise. I’m not leaving and I’m not hurting you. You are safe in this apartment. Trust me,” he said. She swallowed, feeling snot threatening to go down. He let go of her face and reached for a stray napkin. “Here, have this while I go for some tissues. Drink your tea. It’s almost cold but you need the fluids,” he instructed as he got up. She obeyed dutifully. It was still warm and sweet and comforting. He went to the bathroom and took the tissues and then stopped on the bedroom door, thinking. Looking at the bed, he grabbed the pillow from the side she obviously slept on. He chuckled sadly as he noticed it was the opposite to his.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked, passing her the box of tissues and throwing the pillow on his bed.

“Better. I don’t know what happened just now,” she said, trying to ignore the fact that he was, yet again, shirtless. If it was a means to distract her from her nightmare, it was effective. “I’ve had nightmares, but this was another thing.”

“You were scaring me,” he confessed.

“Sorry…”

“Nothing to be sorry about. Only let me help in whatever way I can. That’s what I’m here for,” he said. “Want to talk about the nightmare? It’s supposed to help. Or maybe write about it if you don’t feel like talking about it to me…” She looked at the pillow he had thrown. “Oh, you’re sleeping here. I’m not letting you go alone to that bed after this. It’s not really up to discussion,” he said. She tried to think of an excuse, but she was too tired and knew she was going to stay awake the whole night on the bed. So she nodded and went under the covers. Gilbert felt confused, all his arguments ready in his mind for nothing. He hadn’t expected her to agree without a fight.

“I… it’s too messed up, Gilbert. I’m not sure I want to talk about it. It means reliving it.”

“It means putting it out of your mind and seeing how different it is from reality,” he said, lying next to her. Anne sighed. He probably was right. When she had written about her dreams they seemed to lose strength. At least for a while.

“It started at the orphanage… Or the clubhouse. I don’t even know now. But there was Billy barking at me. Following and following all over some dark hallways. I went up to the cellar, but the stairs kept going and were sticky and he was coming nearer. It smelled rotten and bad and it was humid and so… grey and dark. I thought I found… I don’t know, but then I was cornered and there was Billy with Regina, the older girl from St Alban’s, and they were…” she trailed off. She couldn’t do this. Not really. He felt Gilbert’s hand sneak along her side and grab hers softly. “I can’t, Gil.” She hated feeling like a scared kid. 

“You can, too. You’re stronger than your mind, your memories and the un-realness of all this. Go on, Anne,” he said, trying to sound detached but wanting to go find Billy Andrews wherever he was and make him pay for hurting Anne. And this other girl he had never met but that had been a part of Anne’s nightmares since he knew her. He squeezed her hand.

“It’s too… embarrassing. Mortifying”

“No one is judging here. We both know it wasn’t real. This is your mind playing tricks on you because it’s under so much stress,” he insisted. She breathed deeply a couple of times.

“They’re… Billy is barking, saying I’m trash… Regina is…” she hid her face, burying it under his arm. He let go of her hand and moved the arm, holding her. “She’s licking, and… Billy… and… Can’t I just leave it, Gil? Please, don’t make me…” he held her firmly. He didn’t want to push her, but knew it was better to speak about it. That much he knew. He felt her fresh tears directly against his skin and wanted to cry with her out of frustration of not being able to do anything.

“Billy never did anything like that to you… did he?” god, he hoped not, because he would kill him. He would track him down and kill him. Anne shook her head against him. “See? Not real. If that image comes into your mind, tell it it’s not real and go with the next one. Did… Regina do this to you?” Anne’s pause was all the answer he needed. “It’s not going to happen again, Anne. Never again. It is in the past and no one will do to you anything you don’t want. And she, getting together with Billy? Not happening. What else?”

“I… I managed to get out. And the place was Green Gables. The stable. But it got smaller and smaller and Billy was tearing it down like the clubhouse. I think he was. But it was Green Gables. And then I went looking for Matthew for help but he wasn’t anywhere and I went looking for Marilla but… I found her in the basement and she was dead and Billy was getting bigger and he started to tear down the house… and… and I tried looking for you but you were nowhere and… and… and” she was sobbing again and he held her. He wasn’t there. In her horrible nightmare he was just another loss. 

“Shhh… Anne, I’m here now. I’m not going,” he said. “I’m here to stay, Anne-girl. As long as you want me,” he murmured, rocking her slightly as she cried and held on to him as if he could disappear. He held her firmly, close to him, willing to transmit to her how real his presence was. “I’m not going anywhere, Anne. Not anymore,” he insisted, rocking her until the sobs subsided again and she fell asleep. He stayed awake for much longer, mulling about Anne’s nightmare, about her fears, about how he had played a role in making them bigger and real. 

When Anne woke up the next morning, it took her a moment to understand where she was and what was happening. She recalled the horrific nightmare, one of the worst she had had in many years. Then a whole lot of crying and Gilbert holding her the whole time. Lying on the sofa with him. More crying, until she fell asleep. Which led to… being tangled in him, apparently. She was in the center of a complicated tangle and had absolutely no idea how to get out of it without having an uncomfortable situation for both of them. _God, Gilbert, what are you dreaming about?_

She tried moving a leg, but that only made it worse as he turned and wrapped his arm around her waist, his face looking the hollow of her neck. Shit! This was bad. Bad bad bad! Worse, even, because the feeling of his hand on her waist and his warm breathing on her neck were too much for her to handle. Shit. And he still had no shirt. He had to sleep with a shirt if he ever was going to convince her to sleep with him again! She needed to get out of this. She stayed still, trying to concentrate on anything but Gilbert’s warmth but failing miserably. All she could think of was his body against hers and his leg in between hers and his hand on her waist and...

Maybe she could get back to sleep and when she woke up next he would be gone? No, she was far too gone for that and she was pretty sure his hand was moving up. Fuck! An escape. Didn’t he have an alarm?! She turned her head whatever she could and managed to watch the clock on the wall. 7:06. So his alarm wouldn’t sound until at least half an hour and… gee, what was that on her leg… He _had_ to be kidding her! 

She didn’t think anymore about gentleness and trying not to wake him up when she felt the erection forming against her leg. Because that was just too much. She disentangled herself as best she could and stood up quickly. Gilbert blinked confused at her absolutely flushed face running to the kitchen.

“I… er… coffee! I’ll prepare coffee, yes. Want breakfast? I’ll make some waffles. Or french toast. We have bread. French toast it is. You need to remember to buy the ground flaxseed…” maybe if she kept on talking everything would be covered and that was that. She was never going to sleep with Gilbert anymore, not if it came to that. Not even if it was the best night sleep she’d had in forever, including the nightmare and crying herself to sleep and everything.

He sat down, still half asleep, confused about the breakfast options, and saw his pajama pants. _Oh_. That explained it. He wanted not to laugh but couldn’t contain a small chuckle at her reaction. Only Anne would react that way. Only Anne. He rested again, relaxing.

“French toast sounds nice,” he said from the bed. “Want any help? I can make the coffee…”

“No! Stay there. I’ll do this. You… sleep or whatever,” was her quick, shrieky answer from the kitchen. He laughed out loud now. “Gilbert! Not fun!” he only laughed harder when he tried to stop, feeling content with life for a minute. He decided to get up, noticing everything on his body was going back to normal and walked to the kitchen, where Anne was mixing things in a bowl, her face completely flushed. She turned her back to him.

“Morning, there,” he said, resting against the door frame, a cheeky smile still on his face. “Slept well?”

“Make coffee, if you’re up?” she said, not looking at him, the blush coming down her neck. He laughed. 

“Honestly, you can turn, Anne,” he said, grabbing the can from the cupboard and measuring the dark powder. She shook her head. “I don’t bite or anything, you now? Well, I have to tell you it was one of the best night’s sleep I’ve had in years. Best way to wake up,” he teased. Kind of teased. He hadn’t slept that well in years. Anne snorted. “What?”

“I could tell,” she said. She took out a pan and looked at him discreetly. All good, now. She was never going to mention this to anyone. Including him. Because he was enjoying himself too much and it wasn’t fair. She continued melting the butter and putting the bread in the batter. “Shit! Gilbert, don’t sneak around like that!” she exclaimed when suddenly he was just behind her, putting the milk to warm, her flush coming back in full force. He smiled innocently. 

“Sorry?” he said, but didn’t move from there, his body almost touching hers, but not quite. He could see how uncomfortable she was but it was the most endearing thing he had seen in a long time. He absolutely loved seeing her all undone only because he had woken up in the most natural state and went about his life without a shirt.

“Move! I don’t want you getting burned… no shirt in front of the stove… senseless boy…” she mumbled and he finally moved, still chuckling. He was in a wonderful mood and she was not going to dampen it. Plus, it was his day off. It couldn’t get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a... different chapter, we would say? Let us know what you think. We're always curious. So! Ready for three updates this week? We already know you will love so many things about them and really, we have to have some self control not to publish the whole thing ;)
> 
> Just in case: OHIP is the health insurance in Ontario. Last chapter there's a whole explanation of what Anne had to bring and all in the footnotes.
> 
> See you this Thursday!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas Eve, everyone!
> 
> We know by your comments your really enjoyed our surprise. We're so glad! It was the whole idea. We had been planing it for a while and are delighted with the way it's turning and the chapters that are for this week. We hope you like this one, and then the one from Saturday. As a teaser: Saturday has one of Hikari's favorite scenes (even if her list is ever growing). 
> 
> No warnings for this chapter. Today it's Christmas. No heavy stuff. 
> 
> Music.... https://open.spotify.com/playlist/15W50fhOSdGPzuEeyrrKWi?si=bZq6p0-DQVCtUcuQOdv77Q ... and action!

> _From:_ _kakwet1990@hotmail.com_
> 
> _To:_ _anne_shirleycuthbert@gmail.com_
> 
> _Subject: Re: Here goes with corrections!_
> 
> _Melkita’ulamun,_
> 
> _I sent directly the word document you sent me to my father. Well, more like printed it and gave it to him, so he could carry it around. You’ll have plenty of comments- not a worry about that. I’ll get back to you as soon as we have comments, so we can understand better how they would prefer to go about it, I know it’s an important subject for you._
> 
> _Now, are there any new developments with Gilbert? You’ve been awfully quiet the past few weeks and that’s not like you. Spill the beans my kindred spirit- I know something happened. I can just read in between your lines, don’t forget that. I’m just not sure of whatever happened to be a good thing, and I am indeed a bit worried. So try to appease my concerns? Any more fighting?_
> 
> _How are your dreams coming along, come to that? You haven’t mentioned them and I happen to remember they gain strength as you lose security. Please let me know and reach out whenever you need._
> 
> _Love you._
> 
> _K._

The boxes arrived at some point. Gilbert brought them up when he arrived from his shift, putting them in the shared shopping cart that was available in the building. Anne was typing away an answer to Kak’wet’s latest email on the sofa, headphones on, and didn’t see him come in. Telling her a bit of the hideous fight with Gilbert, it’s resolution and how the dreams weren’t really allowing her to truly rest. A messy bun, she kept wearing his hoodies every day and he could not get himself to care. He had offered. And he thought she looked hot wearing his clothes, and now that he knew she was not naked under them he could handle it. He left the boxes next to the door, went to leave the cart in its place and came back. She was still writing.

“Hi there,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder so as not to startle her. She looked up and put down the headphones, the melodic voice of Kacy Hill singing _I believe in you_ fading from her ears.

“Hi! Is it afternoon already? I lost the sense of time…” she said, getting up.

“Yep. Don’t worry about that, good work day?”

“Well, at least it’s flowing now. I’ll make a thousand changes later, but for now it makes sense.”

“So, guess what arrived,” he said, offering his hand for her to get up. She received it and he was glad she was more accepting every day of the little gestures he had with her.

“My boxes?! Oh, what a wonderful surprise!” she said, going quickly to the door. “I’ll miss wearing your hoodies, to be honest, but I’m glad to have something different to wear.”

“Well, keep using them. They’re yours to take. Do you want to unpack now or wait until tomorrow?” She looked at him.

“I… I’m still not sure about unpacking everything, Gil. It’s…”

“I know. You said so yourself. I meant the clothes. If you ever want to unpack anything else, feel free to do so. I’m glad to share a house with you, even if it is for a short time,” he cut her gently. He would never force anything, but he also wanted to state how glad he was for her to be there. She sighed, more relaxed.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“No problem, really, Anne. Do you want any help? I could use some distraction, to be honest.”

“How was work today? I’m sorry I didn’t ask before… The effect of the boxes, I think,” Anne said, ashamed.

“I’d… prefer not to talk about it, to be honest,” Gilbert said quietly. He had lost a patient that had been a promising case and had taken a sudden and sharp turn for the worse. He had honestly thought the kid would be able to beat the disease and they all had been so optimistic after the last results they’d had. Anne looked at him, worried.

“Oh, Gil,” she said, and went to hug him. He was surprised, as hugs were coming back slowly between them, but usually initiated by him. Still, he received it gratefully and hugged her back. “I’m sure you did your best. You always do. And whoever is this patient is so lucky to have you as their doctor.” He sighed. They separated and she looked at him in the eyes, a latent energy between them.

“I think I’ll have a shower. My back and neck hurt badly,” he said after a moment, breaking the spell. She nodded.

“I’ll put on some tea and can give you a massage later if you want. We can put on a movie. I’m not great, but I don’t think I’ll make it worse,” she offered. He nodded and went to the bathroom. She went to the kitchen and organized everything, and then made the living room sofa a bed, so Gilbert could effectively lie down. She wasn’t 100% sure about rubbing his back, but he did look tense and miserable and she felt compelled to help. He had helped her before, she thought, remembering the nightmares. And the subsequent morning episode she had decided to ignore forever. She opened a box and quickly found the leggings she had been longing for.

Gilbert came back, clad in just sweatpants. After the day she had had her first nightmare, he had been caring less and less about wearing a t-shirt or something around Anne. If she saw him shirtless, well, too bad. First she had been locked in his room. Then, well, it wasn’t fair that she got around wearing that camisole and he had to wear a t-shirt all the time. And he secretly enjoyed seeing her blush every single time.

“Great. Lie down then. I thought we could watch Friends? That way you don’t even have to pay attention and can relax. If you have a better idea, by all means, go ahead,” she said, pink in her cheeks as she motioned the tv remote. He laughed.

“It’s ok like this? Or should I put on the shirt?” he asked, showing her the one he had brought. He didn’t want to make her _that_ uncomfortable. He did want the massage, after all. It sounded promising. 

“No, it’s fine. Let me just get some lotion,” she said, hurrying to the bathroom. He pushed play, remembering how they had seen the show reruns while in school. “Well, lie down, Gilbert,” he noticed she had changed her jeans and put on some leggings, probably found in one of the boxes while he showered. He did as instructed and she sat next to him. “I’m sorry if it’s a bit cold," she excused, before squirting lotion on his back. He jumped a little, not expecting it despite the warning, but then he then felt her hand on his back and, while she rubbed, he did feel himself relax and forget a bit about the kid.

“You look so uncomfortable, Anne, it doesn’t make any sense,” he said after a moment, trying to distract himself from her hands. They were getting all the knots of his back alright, but they were starting to create another problem. He had turned his head and was just watching her, kneeled beside him as she massaged him.

“Well, it’s the way of things. I’m not Phoebe, I don’t carry a massage table around,” she tried joking, as he grimaced while she worked out a knot. That helped. That was painful and distracting enough from both her position and her hands. “Your back is a mess, by the way.”

“I know. Yours will be too if you keep like that. Maybe you should stop, I already feel better. Honest,” he said, because he didn’t want to deal with Anne in pain and preferred to keep some of his. He was not about to tell her to take off her shirt so he could return the favor.

“I’m good, Gil, really. Relax, ok?”

‘I can’t when you’re contorting like that,” he insisted. She huffed. She wanted to keep massaging him because his back felt as strong and soft as she had always imagined it, and she didn’t want to stop just yet. Plus, it seemed to make him squirm. How did that feel, Gilbert, huh?

“Maybe I can…” she stopped and looked pensive at him, blushed, and resumed her work on the same knot she had been working on with more energy than before. She would keep doing it this way. No need to change anything. He was squirming and she was ok and there was no need for anything else. She could soak in the tub after to get any pain out.

“Ouch, Anne, I do feel pain” he complained, as it really hurt. She relieved some of the pressure. “What idea was it? Go ahead, I don’t mind,” he said. She shook her head, even redder, and he turned. She sat on her feet. “How bad can it be so that you have that colour?” he asked, turning his head tolooking at her in the eyes, a glimmer in his. Now he wanted to know. And he wanted to tease her because of it. 

“It’s not bad, it’s just… Oh, turn and let me continue,” she grumbled. He did as instructed. “Let me know if this is uncomfortable, ok?” Anne said before getting up and effectively straddling him on the back. _Oh._ Ok. Her redness made sense now, Gilbert thought as he felt a warm wave go toward his nether regions. She continued the massage for a few minutes and he could not help but feel that what had been mostly relaxing so far was now exciting him even more in ways that were very much inappropriate. The relaxing part seemed well over. Her whole body seemed to move against him as she massaged him… He sighed as he started to get hard.

Anne was trying hard to concentrate on her hands, but was very much aware as well of how he felt below her. She knew her touches were no longer as innocent as they were when she had started (they had not been for a while), but couldn’t help herself. His back was firm, the skin so soft. His shoulders were much more broader now than what they’d been when they were teens. And she had wanted this for so long. And it was only a massage, she was not trespassing any boundary or anything, right? She let out a breath slowly, trying not to lose her bearings as she felt a warmth gather in her center.

“Anne, I… I think it’s good now, really,” said Gilbert after a moment, his voice hoarser than he wanted. Because if she kept at that pace, he was not going to be responsible for what he did. He would just turn and kiss her senseless and make love to her just as he had dreamt of doing it so many times in the past few weeks. Years. And he was actually trying to take images from her out of his mind. She didn’t answer, not really trusting her voice, and kept massaging him, her hands going down the sides of his back. Gilbert swallowed. This was a form of torture, he knew. She was seeking revenge from the other day and it seemed to be very sweet for her. “Anne… it’s enough, seriously,” he insisted after a few minutes, the erection throbbing against the sofa. God, this was exciting and uncomfortable and so good and everything at the same time, but he needed her off him _now_ or he would not be held accountable for anything. She cleared her throat.

“Oh… ok. I’m going to put the bread in the oven,” she said, as she got off him, an apparent nonchalance in her tone. He didn’t dare to move yet. He knew he had a very stiff erection in that moment and tried to think about anything that would help distract his body. He buried his head in his arms. Anne scurried off to the kitchen and turned on the oven. She tried to calm herself and her ragging heart. She felt so hot and bothered she didn’t even know what to do. What had she been thinking? She had wanted to do that, yes, even more after how he had pushed her the other day, but she hadn’t counted on getting… like this. She was startled by the beep that announced the oven had reached the temperature and put on the loaf quickly inside, sighing. She had to control herself, for fuck sake. Or else she didn't know what would come of it.

“Anne, I… thank you for the massage, really. I had no idea you had those skills.” Gilbert said to her, from the kitchen’s door. He had his t-shirt on, now. He had felt confident enough to get up now. She nodded, but blushed brightly again. He chuckled. _Not so unaffected, then? Revenge came back to bite you? You will see Anne, let’s see who has the last word in this._

“Something I developed over the years,” she answered, looking at the floor. She would never do that again. Or sleep with him. Not happening.

“Are you ok?” he asked, knowing full well what was happening.

“Yup, all good. I had just forgotten about the bread. So, do you want something for dinner?” she asked him, trying to change the subject. He looked at her with dark eyes. He knew what he wanted. She blushed again. She was nervous and unsettled and it only made him smile.

“I could honestly have some cereal and call it a night,” he answered finally. She nodded and took some bowls. While she prepared herself some oatmeal, full of fruit, nuts and healthy things, he poured himself some cheerio’s that she looked at disapprovingly. They went back to the living room and sat closer to each other than they had in all the weeks Anne had been there, except when they went to that park. Or when she had nightmares.

Gilbert retrieved her bowl and got up when the alarm of the oven went off. He went to the kitchen, organized a bit, took out the loaf and followed Anne’s instructions to put it to cool down on a rack, and went back to the sofa. A little while later Anne excused herself to go to bed.

“Blythe, I’m going to Timmies for a double double. Wanna come or you’re too engrossed in that?” Fred asked him, putting his face through his office door. 

“I’ll go with you, just give me a sec,” he said, looking for his wallet and leaving the treatment plan he was going through to rest for a moment. He needed to clear his mind. “How’s Ella?”

“Fine. Glad that there seems to be an end on this lockdown from hell,” he said. “She’s been working like crazy and doesn’t pay any attention to anything I tell her about setting boundaries. You know how she is.”

“She’ll get sick. Tell her not to get her hopes up? I’d rather wait until the date is closer and there’s no major resurgence before chanting victory.”

“I know she’ll get sick! It’s what I’m telling her! But it’s also hilarious, seeing her in pajama shorts and then all dressed up on top for her meeting. And she’s been trying to bake and cook. I tell you, you’re lucky with Anne,” Gilbert laughed as an answer, opening the coffeehouse door. 

“I do know I'm lucky. Now more so because she actually talks to me,” he answered. 

“Everything you dreamt of?” Fred asked, a knowing smile.

“Not quite, but I think there’s a chance we’ll get there,” he answered, as he felt more confident every day.

“I hope you do. You deserve it after pinning for her for so long. I know I keep teasing, but honest, Blythe, don’t fuck it up this time. You got your second chance and I for one never thought you would,” Fred said, sipping his coffee. Gilbert smiled. 

“I know. Weird thing to be thankful for right now, but if it wasn’t for her poor decision making and the pandemic I would have missed her. I just wish she would confront and accept what she’s feeling, you know? Or what I want to believe she’s feeling, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” As always, Fred lived for his gossip. 

“What I said. Sometimes I can just tell she somehow still likes me but doesn’t want to accept it. I can’t be this good at imagining things that don't exist. So I tease her, because what else can I do? It’s not like I’ll force her or anything. She flushes with everything and gets squirmy like a teen. You’d have a field day. But for some reason, she is not quite there and if I do anything before it’s time I know she’ll be running and I’ll lose her again. There again, it could all be on my mind.”

“So basically you’re going mental and completely sexually frustrated because you think she doesn’t want to accept that she still wants you?” Fred asked, skeptical. 

“Yep, that’s right,” he said, his voice strained as he remembered the massage from the other night. She was a tease to top it all. “It’s fucking hard, Freddie. Imagine having Ella just there and not being allowed to touch her, but having her tease you everyday.”

“Gosh, Blythe. Sounds like hell,” Fred answered after a moment, his face pained. 

“Yes. But no. Actual hell would be not having her,” he answered, remembering his lonely apartment the days before Anne arrived. “This way at least you get to see her and talk to her. And she’ll get there. I know she will.”

“Keep telling that to yourself if it keeps you sane, mate,” he threw the empty paper cup on the garbage can. “Whatever works for you, just keep it real, Blythe. I don’t want to deal again with the state you were in when I met you. Now I have the actual means to medicate you.”

Gilbert didn’t comment when he saw Anne unpack more than clothes, not willing to break the spell. A new energy seemed to be present in the apartment and between them. Anticipation, camaraderie, and a subtle but constant flirting seemed to be the new normal. The teasing from the past few days had subsided a bit, but somehow started to become the new normal in the place. It was not a sudden change. It started small, with small gestures and signs. Almost imperceptible. A tiny touch here, a small joke there. No one would say it was flirting, had they not seen them before. But Gilbert could not lie to himself. Anne couldn’t, either. They unspokenly chose not to talk about it. About how right and comfortable it felt.

One day Anne decided to forego the hoodie over the camisole, even if it was a little chilly just that day her nipples were hard and evident through the fabric. Gilbert knew it was some kind of torture. He knew she was cold and doing that on purpose. But he didn’t say anything. Neither did she. 

“Morning! Did you sleep well?” He asked from the island where he was having his coffee. He tried to act as if nothing was happening and was glad that she didn’t arrive while he was eating. It would have been embarrassing to choke at her sight. “I left you some oatmeal on the stove. Sticky like you like it.” He said, returning his eyes to the screen of his phone where he was reading the news.

“Thanks. You work today?” She said as she served a bowl and chopped some banana to put on top with almonds and cinnamon. “More coffee?”

“Yes. And yes, thank you,” he said. Anne felt a bit deflated as she poured more coffee in his empty mug. She thought for a moment he was resting today. He put on some milk from the jug he had left out.

“You never get days off?” 

“Of course I do. You just never notice,” he chuckled. “We went on one to Service Ontario. I finish around six, but I have one tomorrow and the next day, actually. A regular old weekend for once. We have a call with the gang at around three in the afternoon and then we’re free to do as you wish, the first day of stage 1 to enjoy outdoors. Did you have anything in mind?”

“I hadn’t thought about the opening. But about tonight… Movie night? I was thinking popcorn, pizza… the whole thing,” she said, looking hopeful at him.

“The whole thing? What else there is apart from pizza and popcorn?” he asked, trying to remember if they had any other thing. Sleepovers, but they were already living together. 

“We used to do sleepovers and forts,” she said. He laughed.

“We only did one fort, because you were thirteen and had never made one before and it was criminal you hadn’t experienced that. Dad helped us to secure the blankets and everything, remember? It was such a good night” it had been a great night and he still looked back to it fondly. It was one of his favourite memories. She smiled.

“See? A fort is the way to go. Always.”

“Ok, fort it is. But we’re not watching any Disney movie this time, pick something else. I’m outvoting you this time, you don’t have dad on your side,” he said. She smiled. “And not When Harry met Sally either!”

“Hey! You’re not fun. You pick it, then. I’m choosing the pizza toppings,” she answered, pushing him teasingly. “So, I’ll have everything ready when you come back."

“So, Anne has this plan for tonight and I need your help,” Gilbert said to Fred as they strolled around the block during their lunch hour. Fred looked at him, his eyebrows shooting up. “Nothing like that, get a grip, Wright.”

“I didn’t get to say anything!” his friend defended himself. Gilbert shook his head.

“As if I didn’t know you. So. She’s got it into her head to have a movie night tonight.”

“That’s… quite more normal than I thought.”

“Yeah, right, she’s building a fort and making pizza from scratch,” Gilbert said, chuckling. Fred looked at him.

“You’re kidding!”

“I am honestly not kidding. She’s building a fort. My only task in this is to find a movie to watch that isn’t from Disney, because I banned them.”

“Why on earth did you ban Disney? Disney’s movies are the perfect ones to watch in a fort,” Fred said, frowning. Gilbert shrugged. He wasn’t looking forward to relieve the memory of the fort they had built with his dad that much and he knew if they saw _The Lion King_ that’s what would happen. “Ok, then watch a scary movie and she will be curled on top of you.”

“You are seriously not helping, Fred. I actually want suggestions for the movie. Real suggestions.”

“Well then… I don’t know, Blythe. Something nineties, it’s a fort. Come on, I haven’t been in one for years, is this some weird tradition from your island?” Gilbert snorted at Fred’s comment.

“Of course not. I think she just likes to relive good memories. She never had a fort in her childhood, you know? Between the orphanage and the foster homes, she never got a chance to have a fort. I found out when I was fifteen and my father insisted she had to have the experience.”

“So you did a fort with her when you were teens?” Fred raised an eyebrow.

“Yep. Shortly before Bash moved in. My dad was the best making forts, you have no idea,” Gilbert smiled fondly at the memory.

“My parents hated when we did them. When we were kids we always wanted to, but there was one time when we made a TV fall down and then they forbade us from doing anything again.”

“How on earth did that happen?” Gilbert asked, stupefied.

“We may have used the TV to hold the blanket? I don’t remember, Blythe, it must have been twenty years ago. One of those huge, boxy TVs from the nineties. But your dad made forts?”

“He was all for it. Any kind experience you imagine, he wanted me to have it. So, forts. When we made this one with Anne it was the best creation. I wonder if I have pictures. It was a beautiful thing of blankets and pillows and he even looked for the Christmas lights,” Gilbert explained, remembering that night. They had watched _The Lion King_ and it had been perfect. One of the nights that had truly brought them together.

“I wish I could have met your dad. He really sounds like the best,” Fred said, pensively, as he held the hospital door for Gilbert to come in.

“He was the absolute best. You have no idea,” Gilbert said. “So, movie?”

“ _Mighty Ducks_?”

“I love them, but no… you just gave me an idea,” Gilbert said, grinning to Fred. “ _Breakfast Club_!”

“Are you being serious? That’s what you needed my help for? Come up with that?” Fred replied. Gilbert laughed, sure of his decision. But _Mighty Ducks_ was a great backup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now! Any theories for the fort? How it will turn out? Movie's they're watching? Gang call? We love love love to hear from you!
> 
> We hope that you have some great holidays if you celebrate them. And if not, that at the very least you have some nice and quiet days. Lots of family and friends zoom calls and that virtual closeness that has become so... 2020.
> 
> Be safe and take care :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long awaited fort night is here! Well, not really long awaited considering we're spoiling all of you with the three updates this week, but it has been so worth it! It felt like the best gift we could give you for all your comments and kudos and all that keeps us smiling. Thanks again!
> 
> Now, I won't keep you away from the forts shenanigans any longer... only to give you some accompanying music, as always: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5lEdWydzGEZQUQrJtwBzuB?si=0EHl7PaTStCoynZ7RX5SjA

And the fort was indeed ready when he got home. He entered the apartment and looked over at the living room while taking off his shoes. She had pushed the coffee table to a corner and had somehow made the most fantastical fort ever, complete with the Christmas lights he had stashed somewhere in his closet after puting down the decorations MAry had insisted on some years ago. They had gone to Hamilton to spend the holidays with him since he couldn’t get any time away from the hospital. How did she find them?

“Anne? Hello?” he called.

“Hi! So, ready? Pizza is in the oven and we have popcorn! How was work?” she appeared from the room. She had just changed into her pajamas. Another pair of shorts and something that was not as transparent as her camisole but definitely as flimsy. Oh, she was so doing everything on purpose. He was not imagining things. She had not taken his hoodies off for months and now she was clad in only that? Yes, weather was nicer, but not  _ that _ nice.

“Good. Normal. Let me just get a quick shower, do I have the time?” he asked. He wanted to change out of his scrubs, at the very least.

“Yes, you have about ten minutes. So quick shower,” she said, pushing him towards the bathroom. He entered the room and grabbed a pair of sweatpants. He showered fast and put on the pants that rested a bit low on his hips. He didn’t particularly care for that pair, but it was the first he had found. He should open more space for Anne in his closet. He went to the kitchen as his phone buzzed.

**Fred (18:20): So how’s the fort?

**Gilbert Blythe (18:21): Very pro. Has little lights and everything.

**Fred (18:21): I have to meet that Anne of yours. 

“Right, help me bring the drinks,” she said, signaling something and ignoring him completely as she grabbed a big oven pan with the pizza. Homemade, because that’s how she was. He followed her, climbing under the duvet she had hung, and found a bed made of blankets and soft cushions. There was just enough space to sit.

“When did you learn so much about forts?” he asked.

“I have a good memory,” she answered, smiling brightly. “Your dad said the secret was to have a soft base and twinkling lights. So I found some. I have a lot of time during the day, you know?”

“That you do. And he did know everything about forts. You have to get all the pillows in the house, Gilly boy, he used to say when I was a kid. We had so much fun because he never cared for all the detachment the other parents had, and only wanted to have fun with me,” he said, reminiscing of when he was small, grabbing a slice of pizza. “I only wish you had come sooner, so you could have shared more with him.”

“We were kindred spirits. I liked him way before I liked you,” she confessed, choosing a piece. The pizza was good and he made some appreciative gesture to her. She smiled.

“I knew that. Or do you think I thought you were going to visit me when it was evident you only wanted to be with my dad?” he asked. “I was overjoyed because you were at my place, but I knew I wasn’t what brought you there.”

“He just had the best stories ever! You could learn so much from your father just listening to him tell his adventures…” she said, as if it was evident. “And you were such a prat back then, I couldn’t stand you.”

“I know I was,” Gilbert agreed. “I really deserved that blow with the slate at lunch,” Anne laughed as an answer. “Jerry laughed at me for days.”

“He was awfully proud of me at the time. Just he didn’t know he escaped his own blow because I had Marilla on my back the whole time after I hit you,” she laughed harder, Gilbert accompanying her, remembering her first weeks at Avonlea, when she was trying to figure out everything.

“So, where are we watching a movie?” he asked. Anne took out her laptop and opened it directly on Netflix. She passed it to him and he typed, looking for the movie he had decided on, against all of Fred’s recommendations. “We’re watching the  _ Breakfast Club _ ,” he declared, setting the laptop on the stack of books Anne had defined for that purpose. “It’s the most fort-y movie I could think of.”

“We could have seen the Lion King…”

“Again? Besides, this is good!”

“I’ll trust you. If I don’t like it, you owe me one for wasting my fort efforts,” she said, grabbing another slice of pizza. Gilbert watched her as if she had two heads. “What? I’m hungry! Put play already!”

“So you’ve never seen this?”

“I haven’t, and I won’t if you keep talking,” she said. Gilbert shook his head, pushed play and took his place next to her, eating another slice as well. Her pizza was incredibly good. After a while, he crawled outside the fort a while later to bring the dishes to the kitchen, but mostly to turn off the lights. Anne was engrossed by the movie.

He went back in and sat closer than he had been before, just next to her, passing his arm over her shoulder. Anne went even closer to him, her head in his chest, and he covered them with one of the throws she had put around. He tried to relax and enjoy the moment. It was rare to have her like this. It hadn’t happened in years and they both were keenly aware of how momentous this seemingly trivial moment was. Each aware of the warmth and scent of the other, so close and yet so forbidden, still. Neither moved for the rest of the movie nor spoke as it finished. He didn’t want to move. They stayed there for a while.

“It was a great movie. Thank you,” she said finally, not moving.

“Good enough for your fort?” he asked softly, not wanting her to move. Ever.

“Perfect. Jumanji? The old one?” she proposed. She wasn’t ready to go to bed. Not yet. It was such a great night she only wanted to drag it as long as she could. He nodded and moved to put it on the computer. He sat back down where he was before, missing her weight on his chest. The movie started, but neither was paying much attention. 

She tried to steal a glance at his face, but caught his eyes and looked away quickly, feeling herself flush. Gilbert smiled softly, making as if he hadn’t noticed, but feeling his heart skip a beat. No words were crossed, but they were not needed, the familiar movie a perfect background for a stillness of intimacy they both had longed for for many years. They got closer almost imperceptibly.

Feeling brave by how right everything felt, Gilbert let his hand wander until he found hers and he took it tentatively. He had yet to be this bold with her in this calm, non-teasing, honest way. He waited a few seconds for her to retrieve her hand, but to his surprise she left it there. As the movie dragged on, he played with her hand as he had done so many times before. He still knew it by heart, the way her knuckles flexed, where she put more resistance, how they bent so easily and willingly under his grasp. She rested her head on his shoulder.

He had always loved playing with her hands. He flexed it one more time, caressing it with his thumbs, completely absorbed in it and forgetting all about the movie. He turned it and saw the palm, tracing the lines with his finger. Closing the fingers again, making a small fist, he held the hand on his lap and continued to caress it absent minded, turning his eyes to the movie as she rested on his chest again. He instinctually hugged her with his other arm.

“I’m scared, Gilbert,” she said after some time, out of nowhere. She was enjoying her hand in his more than she was willing to admit, not only because his gesture transported her to her teen years, before everything went bad, but because it felt so nice, so good and comforting even now. Somehow, it helped her ground herself, feel more steady. And the steadiness and calm scared her because of the implications. Gilbert frowned, wishing he could see her face and not just the messy bun he had in front of him. There again, maybe that was just what was allowing her to speak. He didn’t say anything, waiting for her to continue, but nothing seemed to come. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked finally, the movie now officially forgotten. He was still holding her hand and caressed it with his thumb.

“I don’t know, to be honest. I understand I should… But I don’t really want” she admitted. He held her closer and brought her hand to his mouth, giving it a small kiss.

“What are you scared of, Anne?” she sighed, and shook her head. He didn’t insist. The movie continued until it ended. Neither moved, a comfortable silence growing in the room. He held her close to his heart, caressing her arm and the nape of her neck with his free hand, not wanting to let go of hers. How much he wanted to kiss her, he would never be able to express. It was getting harder by the hour not to do so. 

“I… I’m scared of letting you in, again” she whispered after what felt like hours and he felt a knot in his throat forming. She looked for more strength to continue.“I’m even more scared of accepting that I already did.”

“Anne, I…” his voice was broken, thinking about her last nightmare, about their fight, about everything. He tried breathing deeply. She didn’t say anything and didn’t make any move. Not to get away from him, nothing. Just felt his heart beat a bit harder than it had been before. “Please do… let me in. Please. I promise you, you won’t regret it.” Maybe there was hope. Maybe there was and he was not imagining things. Maybe what he had told Fred was true.

“That’s the thing, Gil. I don’t think I’ll regret it. But I don’t know if I’ll survive it,” she whispered and he felt his heart break at the implication.

“Anne-girl… If you ever let me in again, you don’t have to be afraid of that. Not anymore. I told you I’m not going anywhere. I don’t repeat my mistakes. I will be with you and we will figure it out together,” he insisted, his voice a little desperate. Urgent. She sighed, but he could feel she was relaxing under his arm. “I’m never leaving you if you’ll allow me to be with you.”

Anne didn’t answer. Neither moved, enjoying the silence and the quiet understanding of the change that was coming, his thumb making small circles on the nape of her neck. It would not be sudden, but Anne was starting to allow herself to give herself and Gilbert another chance. A real one. To openly and truly enjoy his company.

Gilbert was coming to understand that there might be room for hope, hope of the full relationship he had dreamt of so many times, if he was careful to do one small step at a time. As much as he wanted it, today was not the day to kiss Anne. Tomorrow wouldn’t be either. But it would happen at some point, as she was already starting to trust him again. Finally. 

He leaned forward and closed the laptop, complete darkness around them in the safety the blankets provided. The twinkly lights barely noticeable through the blankets. Apart from the night she had that horrible nightmare, they had never slept together, not even when they started doing sleepovers when they were teenagers. Marilla was too proper and always sent him to the guest room, and Mary, although a tad more liberal, always installed an air mattress at the other side of his room. Neither had dared to move to the other’s bed at that time. He only did when she had bad dreams, but returned quickly to his bed as soon as she was asleep.

“Come here,” he said lying down, inviting her to lie next to him in the blankets and pillows she had spread for them on the floor. “Sleep with me?” She nodded slightly just curled on his side, hugging him willingly and not just falling asleep out of exhaustion and tears. They both slept better than they had any other night, but would return each to their bed the following night, not daring to admit anything.

Gilbert woke up so slowly he didn’t know if he was dreaming or if he was truly awake. Anne was curled on his side, her face in his chest, an arm hugging him. The blanket and duvet ceiling of the fort had a warm white hue with the light it reflected. He sighed and hugged her, and she only curled closer to him, snuggling, in response. He smiled. He stretched his right hand to grab his phone, glad it was within his reach. He didn’t want to move.

**Fred (08:12): I want to know everything! Spill! Anything good? 

**Gilbert Blythe (10:12): You’re such a gossip. It was perfect. She hadn’t seen Breakfast Club and she loved it. We talked about old memories. She is finally starting to accept the idea of letting me get closer to her.

**Fred (10:13): And THAT’S IT? Blythe, I meant some action!

**Gilbert Blythe (10:14): You’re incorrigible. And no, no action for you. Even if there was, I wouldn’t give you the details.

**Ruby @Avongang (10:14): Guyyyyys are we changing call time finally? We went home early yesterday and can’t remember. I still think it’s at 3:00 pm and @Moody doesn’t believe me. And we should let those lovebirds in Hamilton know, anyway.

**Moody @Avongang (10:14): I’m so sure we said 10:30. Please? Someone can agree with me? I could win pizza tonight.

Why would they change the time? 

**Gilbert Blythe @Avongang (10:14): Not lovebirds over here. Plain old pandemic roomies. What’s this about changing meeting times with no notice?

**Fred (10:14): :( You’re not fun.

**Gilbert Blythe (10:14): I have some sense of privacy, unlike some others. 

**Fred (10:15): :( :( :(

**Gilbert Blythe (10:15): ;)

**Jane @Avongang (10:16): We all know the truth, @Gilbert Blythe. And the time change is because there are some who didn’t remember and made plans for the afternoon, right @Tillie @Charlie @Josie? So yes, @Moody, you won the pizza. It’s at 10:30. 

**Gilbert Blythe @Avongang (10:16): !! 

**Gilbert Blythe @Avongang (10:16): Thanks for the notice?

**Ruby @Avongang (10:17): :’( I’m still in pajamas. And I don’t want to pay for the pizza.

**Charlie @Avongang (10:18): At least you’re dressed. I’m thinking @Gilbert Blythe over there is looking frantically for some clothes. And @Anne, as always, ignoring us. Bet she’s going to appear in his clothes again. You have 12 minutes to dress! Go!

Gilbert was actually too comfortable to move, but Charlie did have a point. He could not appear as he was and Anne was still sleeping. And she was not going to appear in that thing she was wearing. Not with Charlie in the same call. He left the phone next to him and stroked Anne’s hair softly. She squirmed a little but didn’t wake up.

“Anne-girl,” he called her in a soft voice. “Time to get up,” he said, still stroking her hair. He didn’t understand how she was still sleeping if she used to wake very early every day. She squirmed a little more and buried her face in his chest, pulling the covers up her head. He chuckled, and she enjoyed the way his whole chest seemed to vibrate. “Anne, time to get up. We have a call in ten minutes…”

“No. Call is in the afternoon. Five more minutes, Gil,” she murmured. She was too comfortable and she had slept too well to let go this easily. Not one nightmare in the whole night. And his hand on her hair felt glorious. 

“They changed the time. We should get dressed, unless you want to endure Charlie” he insisted. “Come on, up, sleepy head,” he said, giving her a kiss on the head and motioning to stand. She sat up very reluctantly and looked at him, annoyed.

“You have to be joking,” she said.

“Check your phone, I’m serious. Want some coffee? I’ll put on some to brew as you change,” he offered, crawling out of the fort and turning off the twinkly lights they had forgotten the night before. She followed him and stood up next to him as she combed her hair with her fingers. He tried not to look at her, the sight of her just-waken state too alluring for him.

“They have to stop with these calls without notice,” she commented to the air, following him to the kitchen. “Coffee would be nice. Do you need any help?”

“No, go change. Can you just bring me a t-shirt?” he asked. She nodded as she stretched, her shirt shooting up, leaving her navel on sight. He turned to put water to warm, ignoring her. Good thing she was changing. She walked to the bathroom and then to his room. She quickly picked a t-shirt for him and looked for something for her. She changed quickly just as her phone started buzzing and hurried to the kitchen, meeting Gilbert almost at the threshold.

“T-shirt?” he asked and she threw it to him. He put it on as she answered with him off camera.

“Hellooo!” she greeted cheerfully as the rest of the gang appeared on screen. She looked decent this time. Gilbert gave her thumbs up and she relaxed some more. This was going to be good and they’d be able to divert all of their uncomfortable comments and teasing. “How are you lovely people? Gilbert is putting some coffee to brew, he’ll be here in a sec.”

“Brewing coffee or getting dressed?” Cole asked. Anne shoot him a dark look and changed to the back camera and pointed at Gilbert, all dressed, measuring the water.

“Say hi, Gilbert,” she said. He turned and looked at her phone, waving. She changed the camera again.

“Coffee, as you can see,” she said.

“Right. He just takes so long to take any action he could as well be dressing after last night…” Cole continued as Charlie snickered. Anne wanted to hit him. Roy did it for her. Thanks, Roy. “Ouch, love! It’s evident!”

“Nothing is evident. So, what’s happening over there? How’s life in freedom?” Anne asked, eager to listen about stories of people who actually could get out of the house.

“Oh, there’s this new place. They started as take-out only, but now they’re adding some tables outside. The food is incredible,” Charlie commented. “Well, maybe not for you, Anne… But Gilbert? You would love it.”

“Unless Anne here has already converted him to not eating meat,” Jerry commented, a bit cold. “You all know he would do about anything for her.” 

“Nice, Jerry, nice,” answered Cole, winking. Gilbert didn’t answer, slightly confused by Jerry’s tone. He didn’t remember the last time he ate meat, now that he thought of it.

“So what kind of food is it?” he asked finally, ignoring both Cole and Jerry.

“It’s this wings place but the sauces, Blythe. The sauces are glorious. They have about the same ones that they have in every other place, but so well made.”

“You’re talking about the new one at King and Dorchester?” Moody asked. Charlie nodded. “It’s the best. We’ll take you when you can come, Gilbert. Absolutely delicious. If you’re not a vegetarian by then, of course,” he added. Jerry snickered. Gilbert frowned. Anne ignored them.

“Sounds good, we can go. I have no idea when that’s going to be, but definitely, count me on,” Gilbert said.

“Yeah, you’re just hoping the day never comes, Gilbert. You have that face,” Jane said, as she painted her nails.

“What? Why?” Gilbert asked, confused and Anne hit him under the table. He was so easy it wasn’t even funny. He looked at her, a pained expression on his face.

“Because then you’ll no longer have Anne, dummy. She’ll be here with us,” she answered, as if it was obvious. Gilbert felt a weight on his stomach. He preferred never to taste the wings, now.

“Time to up your game, mate,” Charlie said.

“Enough! There is nothing going on and that’s enough with all of your comments. We are friends. We talk. It’s normal. Nothing more going on, which you would see if any of you were here. So that’s it, I don’t want any more talk about any of this,” Anne said, exasperated, slipping without realizing in her stern teacher voice. Everyone laughed.

“Nan, you’re so easy it only makes it more real. We’re getting somewhere. We all deserve to be godfathers of your kids, now,” Cole said.

“Cole, I’m telling you, this is no longer funny. There’ll be no kids,” Anne said, warning him. Cole chuckled. She loved him, but this was too much now. Gilbert didn’t know what to say. Deny everything would not work, evidently. But accepting it was just going to wind them up all the same.

“Cole, how are your sculptures going?” he asked, remembering the pieces he had been working on, trying to change the subject to something completely detached from them. Cole started talking about what he was doing and finally the conversation seemed to take another course and relieve some attention from them. Anne sighed, starting to relax at last. She had thought it was going to be an easy chat, until everyone seemed to be on them. They touched other topics, the subject of their nonexistent relationship at last forgotten. 

“I’ll be right back, just going to get some coffee,” Gilbert said after a while, suddenly remembering the pot he had put on at the beginning of the call. Everyone ignored him as some were starting to say their goodbyes and he went to retrieve a couple of cups. “Anne-girl, milk?” he asked without thinking as he served the coffee. Suddenly there was no more chat about when to meet next.

“Wait a second there, Anne-girl?!” Diana said without thinking as Anne paled and shook her head slightly, quickly. Way to divert the attention, Di. Her bosom friend covered her mouth, realizing the error, as talk erupted on all the other cameras. Gilbert covered his face and let out a string of swears that Anne could barely make out.

“Time to ‘fess!”

“What the fuck is going on in that apartment?”

“Stop denying everything!”

“Finally congratulations are in order?!”

“Guys, seriously, there’s nothing going on,” Anne tried. “Gilbert, come here and explain yourself, stop hiding,” she said. She was not dealing with his mistake by herself. Gilbert stayed off camera.

“Anyway, I really have to go, we’ll expect more updates next time!” Charlie said before disconnecting.

“I want to know everything, Anne. All the dirty details. I’ll text you about it,” said Josie.

“There are no dirty details!” Anne insisted, completely flushed as a tomato.

“There are too! Look at your flushed face! Josie, make a group, put me in!” chimed Jane. “Bye bye!”

“Girls group!” Ruby sang. “Bye guys!” she and Moody, who was waving, were gone.

_ Josie has added you to The Dirty Details, _ the notification appeared on Anne’s screen not twenty seconds later. She growled. Diana laughed. Gilbert still was off camera and she wanted to strangle him. Now that there were only Cole, Roy, Jerry and Diana (all of whom knew way more details about everything than the rest of the gang), she called on him.

**Josie @The Dirty Details (11:57): Ok, Anne, now!! Time of truth! How’s Gilbert in bed? We all want to now!

Anne slid up the notification, mortified.

“I’m killing you for that, Gilbert,” she said to him. He shook his head, terribly sorry. He honestly hadn’t thought about the endearment, it had just flowed naturally. “If they didn’t believe before there’s nothing going on, now for sure they won’t.”

“Sis, remember what Marilla used to tell you. Bad girls who lie, the ghost of the forest comes to hunt you at night,” Jerry said and Anne stuck her tongue to him, just because that’s what his brotherly teasing did to her every time. Roy excused himself as well.

“Not lying. Nothing going on here,” she insisted. Gilbert came with the coffees, now that it was safer, and sat beside her. With those who remained, he could deal. He didn’t deny anything, it didn’t make any sense to do so. In front of the rest of the gang, maybe. But these were Anne’s and his closest friends. Kind of. So it would be futile. They knew just too much.

**Jane @The Dirty Details (11:58): Yes to that! And his kisses! Tell us EVERYTHING.

She slid up the notification again, flushing even more. Gilbert’s eyebrows shot up but he didn’t say anything.

“See? Gilbert might be slow, but at least he’s not denying reality, Nan,” Cole insisted. Anne growled. Diana only smiled like a Cheshire cat.

“Will you tell them?” she asked Gilbert. He smiled, actually enjoying the teasing even if he too was the victim of it. And now she was in a group with Jane asking her about kisses? Ha!

**Ruby @The Dirty Details (11:59): I just want to know if he is as romantic as we always thought?

“I’m not denying anything. You heard Cole,” he said, reading quickly Ruby’s message, still smiling and then looking her in the eyes as he drank his coffee. Oh, he wanted to be in that group. Anne rolled her eyes, sliding the new notification.

“You’re all demented and I’m not participating in this. I’m going to get some breakfast,” she said, getting up. Gilbert picked the phone and followed her.

**Josie @The Dirty Details (12:00): Priorities, girls! Sex first!

“You heard me!” said Cole, laughing. “Even Gilbert agrees!”

“I don’t try to cover the sun with one finger, mate,” Gilbert said, helping Anne with the things to prepare some oatmeal.

“About time, Blythe, about time. Anne, why is it that you keep trying to do that?” Jerry asked her, as if it was a real mystery. “I just want to know how you’ll answer Josie’s questions, sis.”

“I don’t try to do anything! I’m not acknowledging anything in that ridiculous group! There is nothing to cover, we are just two friends! Diana, some help here, as these three won’t hear any reason?” she asked her bosom friend, who only smiled in return. 

“I won’t say anything, Anne. And I’m curious as well. One of them three is actually part of the situation we’re discussing, I’m guessing he knows better than I do. And I’m actually with them. About time you get on with it, too. It’s even worse than when we were on highschool. It was evident then, it’s ridiculous now,” she said in her no-nonsense tone. Jerry laughed and soon the other two joined him. “See? Even Gilbert laughs.”

“What group are you talking about?” Cole asked, something evidently not making sense to him. “Why are you leaving me out of it?”

“New thing for the girls, Cole. Josie created this group called The Dirty Details and is asking all about Gilbert’s talents in bed. Notifications keep appearing on Diana's screen,” Jerry explained, a glimmer in his eyes. Cole’s eyes opened wide and feigned a hurt feeling.

“Oh, Diana, if only she’d hear you,” Gilbert said chuckling, only half teasing. Because he did want some of this to get through to Anne. He was going to implode otherwise. “And I also want to be in that group. Seems only fair,” he commented.

“I’ll add you, Cole. You’re going to enjoy it so much as well,” Diana said between laughs, mischief in her eyes. “Gilbert? Not you. Sorry,” she added with a wink. Gilbert laughed as well.

“Enough!” Anne declared, going away from the phone, grabbing the bowls and going to the kitchen island as Gilbert doubled in laughter.

“I think we’re leaving this here, guys. Talk to you soon? She might take my head off if we keep this up and I do live with her,” Gilbert said. They all said their goodbyes in the middle of laughs. He hung up and turned to look at her, still standing, the bowls waiting for them. “All good, Anne? You know it’s all in good spirit, right?”

“Of course! But still! There’s nothing going on, and they should leave it be and not pressure and ugh! So annoying! And now Josie with these ridiculous questions!” she said, walking back to him, evidently annoyed but clearly not angry.

“What is it that bothers you?” he asked, smiling.

“That they won’t leave us alone! I want to be able to figure this without them asking for every little detail!” she said. He smiled as he looked at her annoyed, flushed face, hands on her hips. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing, just looking at you,” he answered, his tone merry. For all he wanted, he could not take the playful mood off him, and Anne could still see the teasing in his eyes as he got closer to her.

“You’re incorrigible!”

“I’m not, you’re just a dear. And too easy a target,” he replied. She gestured with her arms. He was in front of her now, and debated whether he should hug her out of her stubbornness or not.

“I’m not!” she said, but there was a smile on her face threatening to come out.

“Are too, just look at you!” he answered, laughing, deciding it was worth it. He trapped her in a bear hug as she dissolved in giggles and didn’t let go of her. “See? A dear and an easy target,” he said as she laughed against him, trying to get out of his embrace with absolutely no success, unable to stop laughing now that she had started. It was too much of a good opportunity to let go off it and he tickled her until she managed to scurry away.

“Oh no, Gilbert Blythe, you’re not tickling me,” she said, getting away from him, watching his mischievous grin as he got closer to her and unable to stop laughing even when he wasn’t even touching her. She ran towards the living room but found the fort she had forgotten about. Cornered, she got into it again, seeking refuge in the blankets in between their laughs. She knew she couldn’t really go away, and remember better than she wanted how immune he was against tickles. Only his neck was his weak spot and she had no way of getting there now. He followed her in, laughing as he hadn’t in years, and found her using a pillow as a shield.

“Really, Anne?” he asked, getting closer and grabbing her feet, tickling the sole. Anne laughed so hard her belly was hurting.

“Stop! Stop! Gilbert Blythe!” she said in between laughs, trying to pull her feet away from him. He finally let go and took advantage of her distraction to pull the pillow she was half-heartedly covering herself with. “No no no no no,” she said as she realized he was getting closer to keep his attack going.

He tickled her in the ribs, at the point he knew she was more vulnerable, and Anne contorted in laughter, tears in her eyes. Why was he doing it? He didn’t even know by that point, other than it was a way to release the tension he felt around her and couldn’t let go in the way he actually wanted. So he tickled. Whatever it took to release the energy he had inside. But he was laughing so hard it was hard to keep going so he eventually collapsed next to her, both of them trying to regain her breaths.

“I hadn’t laughed so much in years,” she confessed after some minutes, feeling his body so close to hers, her hand almost touching his. She moved a finger and felt his respond, tangling with hers in an unconscious, automatic manner.

“Me neither,” he answered, a silly smile on his face, turning his head to look at her, still flushed. He wanted to ask her if it was so bad to admit there was something going on between them. He knew it. He felt it. And he was pretty sure she did as well. But he was too much of a coward right now, remembering the fight they had last time he asked. He preferred to go by her cues, by the pace she set and how she felt comfortable. He moved his hand to properly grab hers, his thumb caressing her. She turned to look at him, still the shadow of the smile in her lips.

“I still need some time,” she said very quietly, because she did, but didn’t want him to let go of her hand. Or break the spell.

“I know,” he murmured. “I won’t push anything,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I know we’ll get there, and then you’ll see, Anne-girl, then you’ll see.” She didn’t say anything more and he was relieved she didn’t, because he didn’t want to go into the details. He looked at the blanket that was the roof from the fort and closed his eyes, trying to relax. 

“You have to stop using nicknames when we’re on call with the gang,” she commented after a while and he chuckled in response.  _ That _ , he had to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, we know everyone has a different definition of shenanigans, mischief and touching, but we absolutely hope you liked this chapter. What do you think?


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!
> 
> So, after Christmas week, it feels weird to be back on schedule, right? Or are we the only ones? We enjoyed so much reading all your reviews over the past week, you can't imagine. We're also so glad you're getting the hang of the slow burn... and how it's important in this story. 
> 
> For now... let's put on some music and start the last chapter of the year! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5WZtJFNx8JC1pv09yqaREp?si=hpd-c_mPSaKjL3OYfaqM7Q

“So, what do you say? Want to come? They’re dying to meet you,” he said. Fred had written to him to invite him for dinner. Ella missed him and reopening was official. First stage, anyway, but that meant they could do a small social circle and keep within its boundaries. And they had insisted he brought Anne. He wanted to see Bear as well. “And it’s a way to get out. We could go for a walk or something before, maybe a park or the lake? And then dinner.”

“I don’t know, Gil… I don’t want to give the wrong idea,” she said as she folded yet another blanket of the fort they were dismantling.

“What would be the wrong idea, exactly?” he asked, curious, as he folded a throw. She flushed. “Anne, Fred is my best friend for many, many years. There’s nothing to hide with him. Think of him as Cole or Diana. He’s been there all along,” he explained. She flushed some more.

“Oh, great,” she answered, thinking of the implications. “So…”

“They’re dying to meet you. Honest. They’re more on your side than anything, they’re not judging you. Fred and Ella have been there since Uni so they know about the whole mess we have been through, there’s no need to explain anything. You can be yourself,” he insisted.

“I’m not sure…” she said.

“Look, if you don’t believe me,” he insisted, taking his phone from his back pocket and opening the conversation with Fred to show it to her.

**Fred (13:05): Dinner tonight? Ella will die if she doesn’t see you now that it’s allowed and I only want to meet mythical Anne so I can tease you with her. Bear wants to see his best friend. 

**Fred (13:06): We’ll make pasta! No meat at all, of course. I’m cooking so it will be edible. 

**Fred (13:06): Say yes? 

“What does it even mean, mythical Anne?” Anne asked, confused.

“Just the way he refers to you. Imagine hearing about someone for ten straight years without seeing them. He thinks you’re the stuff legends are made of and can’t wait to meet you. Come, please?” he asked again. Anne considered her options for a second. He did sound nice. At least from the few texts she read.

“Ok… If you say there’s going to be no explaining to do,” she said.

“Explaining? About us? Nothing. I’ll have his head if he pushes. That easy,” he answered, piling the throws to put back in the closet. “So yes?”

“Yes, Gilbert. As your friend.”

“Of course.”

**Gilbert Blythe (13:29): We’re going. Tone it down or you’ll not live to tell it. Almost didn’t convince her. Should we bring something?

**Fred (13:30): Doing a happy dance around here. Don’t worry about anything, we’ll take care of it. Enjoy the day with your girl, we’ll see you around seven-ish?

**Gilbert Blythe (13:30): Gotcha. Thanks.

“Anne, honestly, it’s an informal dinner with friends. We’re maybe going to play a boardgame and that’ll be it, there’s no need to be nervous,” he tried relaxing her as they went out of the car and walked towards the front door of Fred and Ella’s house. She was ridiculously handsome in an effortless, Anne way. A flowy dress she dug out of one of her boxes because weather was finally agreeing with it and she was going out, she had put on some very light makeup Gilbert was sure she never needed, and had done a couple of braids she had pinned on the nape of her neck. She was perfect. But still, she was nervous as if she was going to a job interview.

“Still! It’s the first time ever I meet a friend of yours outside of school,” she said. What had Gilbert told them? What kind of idea could they have about her? What if she didn’t live up to their expectations? What if she, as always, screwed up somehow?

“Stop being so insecure. They already love you,” he confessed as they got to the threshold.

“How can you be so sure?” she asked.

“Because the only reference they have about you comes from Diana, Jerry and me, and believe me, we all love you. So relax, ok? It’s not a test and the banana bread was completely unnecessary,” he insisted as they walked over to the porch. 

“Marilla would come back from the dead if I went to a dinner empty handed. As much as I would love to see her again, it would not do if the reason was to get a good scolding,” she insisted, flattening the wax paper she had used to wrap the loaf. 

“You’re hopeless. Here we go,” he said, ringing the bell. Anne sighed, still tense. The door opened after a few seconds, a huge Newfoundland dog appearing before anyone else.

“Bear, buddy!” Gilbert greeted the dog, forgetting about anything else. He had missed his huge furriness.

“Anne! You must be Anne! You really are the stuff fairy tales are made of, so happy to meet you!” Fred didn’t pay any attention to Gilbert, who was too engrossed with Bear. Anne blinked, confused. “I’m Fred, by the way. My gosh, I understand Blythe now. Come in, come in, let’s leave these two to fend for themselves,” he insisted. Anne smiled at him and followed him inside, kicking off her flats and leaving them by the door.

“Nice to meet you, Fred… I’m sorry, I have to confess I didn’t know you existed until a couple of hours ago,” she said, a bit uncomfortable by the exuberant greeting.

“What?! Blythe, you wound me! I’m just about the only friend he made in uni, he was such a mess back then,” he called his friend in a mock wounded voice, who was just now coming inside. Bear turned to greet Anne, who kneeled down to pet him and ended up covered in wet, sloppy dog kisses as she laughed. “Hey, Ella! Come meet Anne! Finally!”

Ella appeared, drying her hands in a teatowel, all smiles. 

“Don’t tell me you were cooking,” said Gilbert, jokingly apprehensive, as he saw her approach and Anne was still being covered in wet kisses from Bear.

“Don’t be a prat! Of course not, I only washed the pots! Anne, so nice to finally meet you! Come in, don’t stay there on the door… Bear, come boy, stop it!” Anne stood up smiling, more relaxed after the dog made it evident she at least had a real friend there.

“Oh, this is for you, thank you for the invitation,” she said, extending the banana bread she had successfully protected from Bear. Fred received the package wide eyes as they went to the living room.

“Nooooo” he exclaimed, not believing it. “Is this what I believe? I’m finally… Oh, it smells divine! Love, you have to ask Anne for tips, she does know how to cook...”

“I keep trying all these recipes, you see, but I’m dreadful at cooking…” Ella explained to Anne. “So when we have visits, he’s in charge. Don’t worry. You won’t die tonight from poisoning,” she winked, and Anne laughed. “So, what do you want to drink? I take it the doc here will drive, so you’re free to drink whatever you want. Ask away.”

“She does have a full bar, Anne. I’d take advantage,” Gilbert said from the floor where he was playing with Bear with a rope. Anne felt a bit at a loss. She was not big on drinking, not after that blackout years ago, and she definitely was never going to drink in Gilbert’s presence ever again. Only the subject hadn’t come out in the months she’d been living with Gilbert. They never drank anything. Well, he did, sometimes. A cider.

“Just maybe a juice or a water? I’d rather not drink...” she explained. Fred looked at Gilbert, who made a small gesture meaning he had no idea, and Anne flushed.

“Let’s leave these two boys. Come! I have the nicest sparkling waters, you can get your pick,” Ella said, trying to divert the attention. “And we can get appetizers. I’m ravenous and Fred wouldn’t let me eat anything.”

“What’s that with drinking?” Fred asked Gilbert in a low voice. “We’re not trying to get her drunk, but she seemed awfully uncomfortable.”

“No idea. I just realized I’m the only one who touches the cider at my place,” he said, at a loss. As far as he remembered, she wasn’t one to restrain. At least not until graduation, he didn’t know after… _Oh_. “Fuck. I think I know where that comes from. Let’s ignore this subject the whole night? Please?”

“As you wish, Blythe, but you’ll have to explain another day. She does seem like a fairy. You didn’t even do her any justice and that’s saying something. Bear loved her and you know he’s still squeamish after being rescued from that horrible house. And she brought us banana bread, so she already won our hearts. You’re done here, we’re team Anne,” Gilbert laughed. Fred called louder. “Anne! I’m on your team! Blythe here is going down whenever you need it! I know all his dirty secrets!”

She appeared on the door with Ella.

“Oh, you only know half. I know the ones from his younger years,” she said, mischief in her face. Gilbert shook his head. He was not so sure about the whole dinner anymore. They sat down to chat for a while, both Ella and Fred mesmerized by Anne, who was actually having a good time. She liked them. It wouldn’t be like Gilbert to befriend a horrible person, but she was a bit wary before coming. Bear established himself in between her and Gilbert, occupying most of the sofa, and she just hugged him. She’d love to have a dog someday.

“So, do you want to eat at the table? It’s all set up, but I feel like everyone is comfortable here,” Ella asked. “I could bring plates and everything.”

“Sounds good, but Bear won’t go mental?” Anne asked.

“Oh, no. He’s not much into food. He’ll probably just go when he smells it. Bad experiences. He only eats one kind of dog food and only when you sit by him, so don’t worry about that,” Fred said, getting up. Anne frowned. “He’s the other rescued stray here, full of traumas.”

“Poor little thing,” Anne said, scratching him behind the ears. “Who’s the other one? Can I meet him?” Fred laughed.

“You live with him, so don’t worry, you’ve met him alright,” Gilbert shook his head and Anne was so confused. Ella appeared with pot holders and dishes, and organized the coffee table as Fred went to warm everything in the kitchen.

“We’ve called him our stray for years. Seemed so lost when Fred met him in first semester. So it stayed as a sort of endearment. You eat cheese, Anne?”

“Not regularly, but I have no problem if it’s mixed, don’t go out of your way,” she said. 

“Nonsense! It’s in another bowl, I’ll just leave it on this side of the table,” she said as Fred appeared with a huge bowl. Bear stood up, shook and left the living room. Gilbert stretched a bit on the sofa, no longer crushed, and so did Anne. It didn’t go unnoticed how they got closer together, as Ella looked at Fred with a smile. “He does cook nice. And I don’t say it because I married him.”

“It smells delicious,” Anne conceded. “So it’s not a med requisite? Cooking awful and unhealthy?” she asked as they served dishes of pasta and salad and started eating, the ambiance so cosy and relaxed.

“What? Of course not!” Fred said, offended.

“It’s just Gilbert, then? When I got to his place his fridge scared me, honestly. Oncologist and full of the worst things to eat. Honestly…”

“He’s not one to do what he prays, I’ll concede you that,” Fred said. “Never has, as long as I’ve known him.”

“Hey! I didn’t have time and I’ve never learnt to cook well. It wasn’t worth it,” Gilbert defended himself. “Plus, at least I exercise. That’s more than what you do, Freddie.”

“Might be, but I eat real food.”

“The only doubt I have is why your kitchen is so well equipped. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Mary. She insists on cooking when she visits,” he explained. Anne nodded. “She keeps bringing whatever appliance she doesn’t want anymore, my house is her storage.”

“Good thing you’re living there now. I think he has regained a decade of life just eating what you cook. And it’s so nice too, honestly. I keep stealing part of his lunch to be able to eat something nice,” Fred said. Ella looked slightly wounded. “Love, you do know your experiments don’t make sense most of the time. I love you, but you don’t know a thing about cooking”, he explained and blew her a kiss. She smiled silly. “Help me pick up and go for dessert, Blythe? I had ice cream, but we’re definitely adding Anne’s banana bread and I could use a hand.”

“Sure,” Gilbert acquiesced, gathering the dirty dishes as Fred picked up the serving plates. He followed his friend to the kitchen.

“Ok, so I’ll be honest, Blythe,” Fred said in a low voice as they loaded the dishwasher. Gilbert didn’t say anything. He knew he was having Fred’s piece of mind whether he wanted it or not. “It’s ridiculous. She doesn’t take her eyes off you. You can’t even turn your body away from her. Do something already. I can’t believe you haven’t, what are you waiting for, a neon sign on her forehead?”

“She actually asked for time. This morning. So no, I’m just waiting for her to catch up with reality,” Gilbert answered, his voice as low as Fred’s, frowning. “Believe me when I say it’s frustrating.”

“Don’t tell. It’s freaking evident. Even Ella said something to me a while ago and you know just how imperceptive she is with anything,” Fred insisted. “Her catching up with the sexual tension of you guys means the neighbors know by now. At the very least up your game. Maybe it’ll drive her crazy enough she will come to terms with what she is evidently feeling. What are you doing now?” Gilbert made a vague gesture. “Blythe, speak. We take much longer, they'll be here,” he said. 

“I… I don’t know, Fred. I hug her sometimes? I give her a kiss on the head when she’s feeling poorly? We’ve held hands a couple of times? I’ve slept with her when she’s had a bad nightmare… Oh, and last night at the fort. Sleeping, mind you.”

“That’s it?!” Fred asked.

“Everything ok?” came Ella’s voice. “We’re looking for the scrabble, where did you store it?”

“All good! It’s on top of the bookcase, love. I believe” Fred answered. “It’s not, but it’ll keep them looking. Blythe, up your game. You don’t want this to go out or to lose your opportunity when PEI opens. Restrictions are starting to loosen down. So do something or you’ll regret it.”

“Yeah, right, and what do you suggest? You’ve always had it pretty easy with Ella.”

“I was direct from the beginning and did so without her hitting me with a book. So there’s that. Just flirt, Blythe, I don’t know… Do I really have to teach you that?” Gilbert felt his ears go warm as Fred kept looking for the dessert plates and everything else they needed while he spoke to him like he was a teen. He did feel like one. “But real flirt, not only go when she’s feeling bad, but be open about it. Hold her hand. Hug her. Give her kisses that she wouldn’t have received from her father. Tease her, provoke her… I don’t know! Bring that, will you?” he said, signaling the pot of ice cream and the banana bread he had already arranged in a serving plate and going out of the kitchen. “So, who wants dessert?”

“It wasn’t there, it was on the cupboard,” Ella told him, motioning to the game they had already set up.

“Shoot, must have forgotten,” Fred said, not an ounce of regret. “Anne, chocolate ice cream? It’s coconut based.”

“Yummy! Yes, please!”

They soon settled with their letters, banana bread (many compliments to Anne) and ice cream. Ella was terribly at the game, her vocabulary and spelling both poor. Fred tried his best to keep up with Anne and Gilbert, but it was evident the real duel was between them two. Anne kept using obscure words, many of them related to science and medicine and not likely to appear in any sort of normal conversation.

“Aren’t you a school teacher? Why do you even know that word?” Fred asked at some point, just plain impressed.

“Oh, I have an excellent memory,” Anne explained as Ella wrote down her points. Fred made a face, urging her to explain. “I used to help Gilbert study for his university entry exams… And I just retained way too much for it to be useful in anything but scrabble and boggle.”

“You helped him study? No wonder he got into U of T,” Fred commented. “Not common for people coming from remote towns like yours,” Anne flushed, uncomfortable, and started moving her new letters around. She hadn’t actually helped him study for that particular exam. She had helped to study for the ones on the Atlantic Provinces and… then he had met Winifred and all but ditched her to study with her for U of T. Gilbert shot his face up, looking at Fred with a silent but very direct expression, shaking his head ever so lightly. Fred bit his lips, not knowing what he had said wrong, and tried to think of anything to say.

“Coffee or tea, anyone?” Ella asked suddenly, also sensing the shift. And for her to notice it, it had to be bad, as Gilbert realized. Anne nodded, not looking up, her shoulders down, and Gilbert accepted with a bit more enthusiasm than what was needed. Bear came back out of nowhere and lay down next to Anne, putting his enormous head on her legs. She relaxed visibly and Gilbert sighed. He tried to move his letters around to come up with something so the game could move on.

“There! Volstadian!” he said as he organized the letters on the board, using every tile he had. “Annnnd it’s a scrabble word! More points to me!”

“Think again. You misspelled it, Gil” Anne said, giggling at the tension she let out for finally letting go of the past weird moment. Gilbert looked at her, incredulous. “I’m actually serious here. You misspelled it.”

“I did not!”

“Did too.”

“I didn’t! You’re just stubborn!”

“Gilbert, look at the dictionary! It’s not my fault if your spelling hasn’t improved!” Anne said, a smile on her face. “Go on, look!”

“I will! Fred, what do you say in the matter?”

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t even know that word existed,” Fred said, unwilling to defend him and just enjoying the show of the two of them discussing like kids and remembering Gilbert’s stories about past spelling bees.

“And this is how I win at spelling, always and forever,” Anne commented, a triumphant smile on her face as she saw Gilbert’s shoulders come down and a frown appear on his face as he found the word on his dictionary app.

“I must have forgotten the E. Shoot,” he mumbled as he took back his letters and started reorganizing them, his ears red. He hadn’t misspelled anything in years. Anne was giggling next to him. His hand shot to the nape of his neck just as Ella came back. She slapped him.

“Gilbert, leave that habit already, you’re not twelve!” she scolded him, and he flushed again. Fred snickered.

“Want some help? We already know your letters,” she said, chuckling as she scratched Bear’s head at how uncomfortable he seemed. Huh, how did that feel, Gilbert? He shook his head, putting another, shorter and much less valuable (but correctly spelled) word in the board. The game was coming to a close as Ella went to the kitchen for a minute and came back with a pot of tea and put on only one letter, and Anne finished the remaining ones in a word that, even when Gilbert looked up, incredulous, was correctly spelled.

“I’m never playing anything that involves letters against you. Either of you,” Fred declared as he served the tea. He passed Anne a cup, who received it and curled on the sofa. He then gave Gilbert one, alongside a stern look, and finally served a couple for Ella and himself. Gilbert got the message and tried to sit close to Anne, who automatically curled against him. He smiled, relieved, passing an arm around her back and bringing her even closer to him. 

The night dragged on, the talk easy, Anne feeling as if she had known them for years, so welcomed she felt. Gilbert felt happy, content, finally able to join two parts of his life he never thought would meet. He felt at home, the girl he loved in his arms, some of his closest friends next to him, the conversation invigorating. As they came back home, it was with an ease they hadn’t felt in all the months they’ve been sharing the apartment, almost similar to when they were teens and used their houses instinctively, each belonging to both.

The next day Gilbert went to the hospital, Fred received him with pure praise for Anne. Even if he scolded Gilbert again for the evident lack of action, he did concede there was an ease between them that was not easy to find. The chat was cut short as one of the nurses went to look for Gilbert: one of his patients was having an emergency and they needed him dearly. And then another.

It was turning into one of those crazy days Gilbert really didn’t care for, but that happened once in a while. He knew he couldn’t really complain, compared to what had been happening the worst days of the pandemic in the floors below, but it still stressed him out of his mind. He picked up patients from his fellow doctors who were downstairs, doing his best to tend to all of them without putting them in risk.

**Gilbert Blythe (12:30): Freddie, take my lunch. I won’t be able to make it, I’ll eat something at home. Consider it some thanks for the other day.

**Fred (12:31): Sure thing, Blythe. Text if you need anything. And eat something.

When he arrived home, later than he expected to, he was dead tired and only wanted a nap, food not even on his mind even if he had skipped lunch. Anne put her book down and went to meet him as he took off his shoes.

“Bad day?”

“Can you tell?” he asked.

“You don’t look great. Why don’t you go and have a shower to clear your mind and I’ll cook something for dinner?” she offered. He stood up and looked at her, finally feeling his shoulders relax. It was nice having a home to come back to. She smiled tentatively.

“Sure, thank you,” he accepted.

“Anything you fancy?” she asked. _You?_ he thought. He shrugged. He couldn’t care less. Which probably explained why he had lived off canned ravioli before. “I’ll make a nice ramen. You’ll see.” He went to have his shower as Anne got busy in the kitchen, putting together the soup quickly and setting the table. Gilbert arrived when she was serving the bowls, and helped her carry them.

“Thank you, Anne. Honest,” he said, beyond grateful for what she was doing.

“It’s nothing, really,” she said. “Careful, it’s very hot.”

They ate almost in silence, Anne ruminating on what she had been reading during the day and Gilbert going over the decisions he’d made, thinking if there was any way to improve any of them.

“How was your day?” Gilbert finally asked her, decided to leave the hospital stuff at the hospital.

“Same as always. Read a little, wrote a little, ventured to the trail- with the facemask you gave me, mind you-, cleaned a bit around,” she answered. Gilbert noticed she didn’t look particularly excited about any of it.

“You don’t look very happy about it,” he commented.

“Well, every day is the same to me. Remember? Home arrest?” Anne insisted, taking another spoonful of broth. The afternoon was still bright outside, the official lockdown finished a couple of days ago. But she felt almost the same as when she hadn’t been able to go out for nothing.

“You’re no longer under home arrest, Anne. You can go outside, now. You just said you went to the trail,” he countered. “And you wound me. Even the days when I stay home are the same? I have been putting an effort to take you out to see new places” He mocked. Well, one place and then Fred’s invitation to dinner. She laughed. She looked longingly out the window, where the trees had green leaves now. Gilbert sighed.

He could understand her longing. He wasn’t comfortable with her riding the public transport and she seemed to understand, but that meant she could only go walking in a small area. At least she had the trail close to home. She belonged in nature, not in the four walls of his flat. 

“I know I’m lucky, with you receiving me and everything, but I just feel so… demoralized sometimes. I can’t even concentrate on anything anymore and the only highlight is cooking, because I make myself do it so the day accounts for something. Well, and going to the trail, that has improved my days immensely. I should be more productive, do something, finish the book I’ve been doing with Kak’wet… But it’s like I write two pages and then erase three.”

**Fred (19:20): Remember to eat, Blythe. And stop overthinking about today, which I know you’re doing. I just heard Dr. Shephard and he was talking about how impressed he was with you. And you know he’s a git. If he’s saying that, you should probably ask for a raise before he changes his mind. Or a regular schedule. Grown up doctor for the win!

“Anne, you are doing fine. Nothing in this situation is normal, so don’t be so hard on yourself. No one expects you to write a best-seller while in lockdown. Be kind with yourself,” he said gently, blocking his phone so he could pay full attention to her. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. She sighed.

“I try. Diana and Cole keep telling me the same. But I have no motivation to do anything, I feel… I don’t even know what I feel,” she admitted. She took some of the floating veggies, tentatively. 

“Anne, honestly. This is normal. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Even if it doesn’t seem like it, you have lost a lot in the past few months. And you’re going through a grievance process. It’s normal you feel frustrated and unmotivated. That’s not to say you should just mope.”

“I just feel like moping,” she said with a pout. Gilbert smiled.

“Well, then mope. But not for too long. May I give you some advice for your days?”

“I’ve seen all the advice online. Structure to the day. Move. Drink water…,” she recited, her voice tired and in an annoyed tone.

“Well then. Yes. That. But also, have something to look forward to each day. Just one thing that helps you go through the day. Maybe one day is baking bread. Maybe another one is a call with Diana. Why don’t you try to record your days, something special about each one?”

“That would be nice. I don’t know if I’ll be able to come up with something every day, but it gives some food for thought,” she conceded. 

“I can always give you ideas. The rest of the advice holds true, you know? Do some exercise? Meditate? Have some structure? You could write about them. Or take pictures. Or draw.”

“Easy for you to say, doc. When you go, next time I see the clock and it’s already been four hours and I have no idea what I’ve done other than scroll on my phone.”

“Why don’t you write to me? Keep yourself accountable with whatever goals you set up for yourself? I might not be able to answer you right away but it may help you?” he proposed. He would love to know what she was up to. She looked at him. “You could always use instagram or facebook and post whatever you do in there.”

“I’ll think about it,” she conceded. “I haven’t really used any of that for ages.”

“Me neither, but hey, there’s nothing stopping us, right?” he wasn’t interested at all in publishing anything, but at least he would be able to openly follow her now. She looked at their joined hands.

“Diana keeps saying that since everything started going downhill back at BC I stopped posting photos and she used to look forward to them. It gave her something to feel connected in another way, not that we didn’t talk often and chatted daily,” she commented. He wouldn’t say anything, but he had missed it too when she stopped posting last year. Saying something would be admitting he was keeping up with what she did, even then, stalking her social media.

“Maybe do it for her, then? You keep doing things, I give you ideas if you ever need them, and you keep yourself accountable by posting for Diana?” he proposed, smiling at her, hopeful it would help her. She smiled as well. Not completely convinced, but it was an idea as good as any.

“I can try that. If it doesn’t work, there’s really nothing lost,” she conceded. She left the spoon in her bowl, finished.

“Thank you for this. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and this was perfect,” he said, letting go of her hand and getting up, gathering the bowls and cutlery they’d been using. She followed him and went to organize what she had left on the counter. 

“My pleasure. Maybe I should have taken a picture of it to start with that project?” she commented. He laughed, closing the dishwasher and getting closer to where she was standing. She stood still, catching her breath. It always made her nervous when he got this close. He put some stray hairs behind her ear.

“You could have. Maybe one with our teas later on?” he proposed. She was very still, his hand still on her face, his eyes fixated on a largish freckle she had on her chin he had somehow missed before. It was a new one, from the past years. The biggest one now. But he remembered suddenly when he had noticed it before, just once. That day of the pillow fight. When they probably would have kissed, if it wasn’t for that damn call that made everything go downhill so quickly.

“Well, that’s an idea. But it was a divine bowl of ramen,” she insisted, her voice only a whisper. _Gilbert Blythe, move away_ , she wished as she felt her pulse quicken, all her nerves concentrating on the feeling of his warm, soft hand. But he didn’t, knowing full well what he was doing. He looked at her in the eyes, his mind still fixed on that freckle.

“Divine,” he accepted. The ramen. Her. It didn’t really matter. She nodded slightly. He leaned forward and kissed the freckle lightly, noticing as she blushed brightly and relishing in it. Mission accomplished? He finally let go of her face with a small caress and turned to go to the living room, as if it was the most normal thing in their evening routine. She let go out a breath she hadn’t noticed she was holding but still followed him.

She sat at her usual place on one side of the couch, grabbing her book to dissimulate how unsettled she still was and noticing how Gilbert went around Netflix and Prime looking for something to watch but clearly lacking any inspiration. He sighed and got up, turning off the TV after a moment and putting on some low music. He opened Spotify and went to the radio station of _The Waiting Line_ by Zero 7 and Sophie Bajer. He turned on the fairy lights Anne had left out after the fort, insisting they were cozy. As long as she felt good in his house, he would do whatever she wanted.

“Everything ok?” She asked, leaving the kindle on the side. 

“Yeah. Just no idea of what to watch. I’ll read for a bit, I think,” he said, not looking very convinced. He had a bad headache setting in, if he was being honest, and didn’t feel like he would concentrate on anything. He went to the kitchen to get some painkillers.

“That bad?” Anne asked him, knowing full well he’d never been a fan of overmedicating himself. He made a vague noise. “Want to talk about it?”

“It’s nothing in particular, really. I’m pretty sure it’s just the general stress of the day combined with skipping a meal,” he said, sitting back on the sofa, closer to where she was sitting cross-legged, book forgotten. She looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “Just hospital stuff, Anne. Nothing for you to worry about,” he insisted. “What are you reading?” He asked, just to divert the attention to anything that wasn’t himself.

Anne knew what he was doing but conceded and started telling him about the book. He rested his head on her shoulder, relishing on the soothing sound of her voice and playing with her hand as she got into the details of what she was reading. Both knew he wasn’t really paying attention, but he just wanted to hear her, and she didn’t mind talking- she never had. And it gave her something to concentrate on other than her hand. Ignoring the apparent (and completely irrational) boundaries Anne had been erecting around them, that seemed to allow holding hands but not relaxing around each other as they used to years ago, he let go of her hand and lay down on the sofa, his head resting on her lap comfortably, as he curled next to her, relaxing at last. This was home.

She went silent for a moment, trying to decide if this was fine. It was just too reminiscent of when they were teens to be comfortable, but at the same time it felt natural. Like her legs were just the perfect place for Gilbert’s head to rest. She decided to roll with it this once and see what happened, continuing the story absentmindedly. Gilbert sighed, glad he hadn’t overstepped and that she had allowed him to stay there. Unsure of where to rest her hands (would it be ok if she touched his hair? Or was that too much?), she left them on her sides. 

She looked at his unruly mop of curls, still slightly wet after his shower, suddenly remembering the nosy woman at Service Ontario. And how soft his hair was before, when there was an unspoken agreement that allowed her to touch it whenever she wanted. Well, he hadn’t exactly been asking for permission to do anything, had he? He’d just given her the hottest kiss she’s received in years and acted as if it was nothing! And it was on her chin! _Come on!_ How pathetic her sex life had been so that a lone kiss on the chin was so hot? It was just not fair. If she wanted to touch his hair, touch she would and that was it. Or else he would have to stay away from her because it… Yes, she was touching his hair.

Gilbert, relaxed as he was, was curious about what was going on in her mind since she stopped the story quite abruptly, but didn’t say anything else. He could almost hear something turn on her head as she made little, undefined, exasperated noises. He was about to ask her if he should move (maybe it was too much?) when he felt her hands combing his hair and he melted in a puddle, the same way he always had, and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh, just feeling her fingers in his head.

Anne smiled. His hair remained as soft as always and she seemed to be the one in control now. It was a double win in her mind. Who was undone now, Gilbert, huh? How did it feel to get this unsettled? She continued caressing his hair, but invariably explored a bit further from the natural boundaries of his hairline, feeling his jaw with a finger, caressing the side of his ear and putting his hair behind it. It had indeed grown longer than she’d ever seen it. She continued for a while, playing absentmindedly with his hair, considering how a cut would make him even more handsome.

“You know... It’s evident you’re aiming for a Trudeau style, but you’re way shaggier than he is and it doesn’t really suit you, doctor Blythe,” she said, not able to contain a smile. He laughed quietly, not even opening his eyes.

“Anne, there’s no place open to cut my hair. The prime minister’s problem only reflects the one most of us guys in Ontario have right now. I’m sorry I’m not as handsome as he is to be able to grow my hair gracefully,” he said, smiling. Anne blushed and thanked him silently for keeping his eyes closed. He was as handsome, but she wasn’t about to say anything. He opened his eyes and turned slightly, catching her rosy cheeks. As always, he enjoyed her blush more than he should.

“I could give you a trim, if you want,” she offered, trying to divert the attention from the way her embarrassment obviously amused him.

“No, thanks. I have a vivid image of you at fifteen, almost shaved. I don’t want a buzz cut, thank you very much,” he said, closing his eyes again, the amused smile still in his dimples.

“It was different! It was an accident, not that you would understand, and we weren’t able to dye it in any colour that would effectively cover the green… Green isn’t nice on me, I can assure you of that. Nor black, which was the only colour that would cover the odious green. Shaving it was the best bet, believe me,” she said, not being able to make her hands part with his hair, even in the midst of her annoyment. Gilbert felt her fingers wander way beyond his hair, to his neck, and caught his breath.

“Still don’t want the buzzcut. Thanks. Maybe it’ll grow enough and you can show me how to tie it?” he proposed, trying to distract her so she would go back to where she was before, to where it didn’t affect him.

“I used to cut Matthew’s hair the last few years, when he didn’t leave the house. I learnt how to do it well, I promise,” she insisted, her fingers doing small patterns in his nape and thus killing him softly. This was his weak spot in more ways than one and she had known at least some of them since she was fifteen. He knew she was doing that on purpose, but surely not expecting the outcome she was achieving. Because yes, he was ticklish there. And yes, it also was relaxing when the mood was right. But right now she was exciting him and it would not do.

“Ok, but I’ll hold you responsible for the outcome,” he accepted, because maybe that would end the torture? Anne looked at his face, how it was somehow tense, his cheeks with a rosy colour she had seen so little times, and smiled mischievously. Really, Gilbert? Fingers on the nape had more effects now than before? She continued, mostly curious, but starting to feel warm as well in reaction of what she thought was his imminent arousal.

“Ok, tomorrow you have an appointment with Anne the stylist in the morning,” she said softly, trailing her fingers further down, to the edge of his shirt. She continued caressing him, playing with his hair, watching as his jaw was becoming more tense. He sighed.

“Anne, don’t start something you’re not ready to end,” Gilbert warned her after a few minutes, because she honestly couldn’t expect to turn him on that way and then go away as if she had done nothing. If she kept this up, he would assume she wanted it and would kiss her senseless in about thirty seconds. He opened his eyes and looked at her brightly flush face.

“Want some tea?” she asked, getting up quickly, leaving his head on a cushion. Maybe she had gone too far?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's it for 2020! Next time we see each other we'll be in 2021. Here's to a great new year, that brings us joy, happiness, health and less pandemics.  
> We just have two questions before we leave: what do you think of Fred finally meeting mythical Anne? And.... would you actually dare to play scrabble with Anne and Gilbert?
> 
> Some... Canada stuff in the chapter:  
> -Premier is the equivalent of the primer minister, but for the province.  
> -Barbershops and hairdressers did take a while to open. Anne's reference to Trudeau is also something that did happen in real life, you can get an idea here: https://dailyhive.com/vancouver/justin-trudeau-haircut-internet
> 
> And if you have no idea of what a Newfoundland is, here you have: https://images.app.goo.gl/DXVo9o1t9SY2JxfZA


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo everyone! Happy New Year!
> 
> We hope you enjoyed the end of year safely and happily. We're back today with more... quarantine shenanigans. You'll see what we mean in a moment.
> 
> Now, for today's music: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4FysAhUZpgINkSMnYuSVQm?si=VfDkfMH9TXWm0oiGWU--SA
> 
> As always, the music is optional, but a really nice add-on to set the mood.

The next few days, Gilbert successfully avoided Anne’s scissors, but his excuses were running thin. He really did not want his hair being cut by her (the memory he’d made a reference to very fresh on his mind) and had just accepted because he had thought she would stop her teasing. Which she hadn’t.

Other than suggesting the cut at any time he was around, Anne had kept busy, trying to follow Gilbert's suggestion. So she started taking more pictures. Of their teas (two cups looked better than one), of her walk, of anything she could think of and published at least one every day. Gilbert scrolled through his timeline with a silly smile on his face when he was free and Fred looked over his shoulder at the latest of Anne’s activities.

“You know you can just follow her?” Gilbert asked at some point.

“It’s much more fun to look at them with you. I get all the reactions,” his friend replied, winking.

“Who are you talking about?” asked a nurse student who was just entering the staff room. Gilbert felt his ears go red. “You’ve looked much happier lately, dr. Blythe, is your wife finally home?”

“What?” Gilbert asked, stupefied. Of all questions…

“Finally! She is back. Wanna look at her, Giselle?” Fred answered, taking his phone off his hand before he reacted. “Isn’t she a beauty?”

“Ohhh she definitely is! Look at that hair! I can see why you were always pinning for her. I’m glad for you, dr. Blythe,” she said. “Love her posts, as well, she has such a good eye,” she commented, scrolling down on her feed. “No pictures with you, though.”

“We’ve… been apart a long time,” he said, stuttering. How could he get out of this now? He shot a murderous look at Fred.

“Oh, Giselle, you could always follow her, I know she wouldn’t mind,” Fred said sweetly and Gilbert kicked him under the table. Hard.

“Oh, I will! Her pictures are so pretty!” she said, taking out her phone and typing down her username as a group of her nurse friends came into the room. “Girls! Look at this, dr. Blythe's wife! She has the greatest instagram. What is her name?”

“Anne…” Gilbert mumbled, so uncomfortable, looking at his salad as the nurses started all following Anne, commenting about all the features he knew by heart. He didn’t need a group of twenty-year-olds to tell him Anne was beautiful, or that her freckles were perfect or that her eyes were an incredible shade of blue. He knew all that and some more and hearing about it only made himself blush. They returned his phone, finally, and decided to go for coffee. Fred snickered. “You owe me big time, Freddie.”

“You set that up on yourself when you started wearing that thing, I warned you then it would go out of control. I’ll follow her now. Comment everything,” Fred answered, absolutely nonplussed, as he stood to wash his things. Gilbert groaned as his phone buzzed.

**Carrots (12:23): Hey, dr. Blythe, know anything about five nurses suddenly following me on instagram? 🤔

**Gilbert Blythe (12:23): It’s all Fred’s doing 🙄 Don’t look at me.

**Carrots (12:23): Yeah, right. They look sweet.

**Gilbert Blythe (12:24): They’re all students, the cutest. Seem so young I feel weird around them.

**Carrots (12:24): Because you’re oldddddd nearing the dreary 30s!! 👴 👴 👴

**Gilbert Blythe (12:25): Shut it 😒 You’re not that young either.

**Carrots (12:25): Child at heart, dr. Plus, I work with kids. I steal their youth. 😈 😈 And you’re two years older than I am.

**Gilbert Blythe (12:26): Being 27 doesn’t make you young either. You haven’t stolen youth in months. Btw, I received a notification a while ago, wanna check if there’s something on the mailbox? There might be something you like.

**Carrots (12:26): :o what? Surprise? 

**Gilbert Blythe (12:27): Go and look. 

“Blythe, coffee?” Fred asked him.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“You are grinning like a kid. What happened?”

“I got Anne some books as a surprise and she is about to get them. I really wish she could go study, you know? The more I think about it, the more I want to tell her to just do so and stay living in my apartment. It’s not like she’s spending much and I’d be so glad,” he explained. The past few months hadn’t added that much to his expenses, if he was being honest. He could keep this up easily.

“You just want her to stay with you,” Fred argued.

“Well, of course I do. But I also want her to feel fulfilled,” he accepted. They got down by the stairs, walking calmly to the Timmies on the corner.

**Carrots (12:35): Gilbert Blythe you didn’t. 😳 They’re expensive!

**Gilbert Blythe (12:35): I did too. Enjoy. I have to go back to work now.

“Anne? You’re home?” he asked as he got inside. He kicked his shoes off and listened to the tune from _A Nice Spring Evening_ by Jordy Chandra. Going to the living room, he found her in some yoga pose (upward dog? downward dog? all the poses had dog names?) and he felt his ears go warm. Why would she exercise in that, of all things? So tight, so…

“Sorry! I’ll finish in ten minutes,” she said, as the calm voice from the app she was using told her to release and go to… something he didn’t understand.

“Right. I’ll… be right in the kitchen,” he said, because he couldn’t stand there and look at her like an idiot. She looked too hot for it to be true. He was used to Anne’s flowiness, to her ease, to her being comfortable in his huge hoodies and in cute dresses, and even in that skimpy thing and those shorts she wore to sleep. He was not used to her clad up in such fitting things and going around in something that evidently was only a bra. He washed his hands and put some water to boil just to occupy himself and soon she was in the kitchen, drying the nape of her neck with a small towel. “Good workout?” he asked, not knowing what else to say.

“Great! So relaxing, as well. You should try sometime. For your stress,” she said, filling a glass with water and sitting on the counter.

“Eh… I don’t think so,” he answered, forgetting about his tea. Not with her looking like that. He went closer to her as she left the glass next to her. “How was your day?” he asked softly, his hand lightly caressing the one that was closest to him.

“Good! Kept reading the books you bought me. You seriously shouldn’t have.”

“Nonsense. I wanted to so I did. Plus, I think you can tell me about it so I don’t look like an idiot whenever Bash talks to me about Delly’s education,” he replied. She giggled and he let his hand trail softly, slowly up her arm, noticing as she got goosebumps all over. Well, at least he wasn’t the only one who kept reacting to the other. 

“I will tell you all about Waldorf, don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll just have to find a way to shut me about it,” she added and then bit her lips as she felt herself blush. She hadn’t meant to say that. Because she knew how Gilbert’s mind would just… And, as if on cue, he huffed, resting his hand finally on her cheek, the other one going to the exposed area of her waist as he got in between her legs. What was she wearing, anyway? What was that called? He’d have to ask someone. Not her. 

“I guess I could find a way to do so,” he said, looking at her eyes. She blushed even brighter. He wanted to smile, but really, he was just too turned on by her clothes (or lack thereof?), and her smell, and her words… He leaned forward, “I could do this, for example,” he whispered in her ear, just before giving her a small kiss just below it, but didn’t lean back, staying there and just breathing her in. “I think it would work, but I could…” he added, his voice still as low, but now a bit hoarse as well. He trailed off as he deposited small, lingering kisses in her neck, holding her head just in place with his hand, caressing her with his thumb, as he felt her stay still, her pulse racing under his lips. His other hand grabbing her waist, warm. Fuck, he was so turned on he wasn’t stoping this time. Anne had to know what she was doing to him. She couldn’t very well let him kiss her this way and not want him as much as he did. 

Anne’s mind was clouded, her breathing shallow. She wasn’t exactly sure of what Gilbert was doing to her, but this teasing was something like she had never experienced before. Not with Lincoln. Not with Daniel. Had she really been with anyone who made her melt like this? Who made her want this much, yet fear this much? She closed her eyes, it was just too much, as she felt another kiss, going dangerously close to her lips and saw how raw his eyes were, so dilated and so full.

If he kissed her- she knew she would be all gone. Somehow she forced herself to regain some clarity, against the feeling of his hand in her waist (strong and gentle at the same time), his thumb in her cheek, his breathing, his scent. Even his chest, so close to hers, her body just moving forward an inch, two, just to be closer to him. Any closer and she would touch him. Whatever they had going on these days would end if he kissed her. They would not be able to go back. And what if it didn’t work? What if he kissed her and then all was lost and…? She couldn’t stand it.

“No,” she whispered, swallowing, using all her strength and whatever control she could muster. Gilbert frowned, and stayed still, but didn't move back. Was she being serious? “Gil, stop, please,” she insisted, because saying no had been the hardest, but she knew she couldn’t lose him and if he didn’t stop, she definitely would.

He stood back, letting go of her completely, frowning, completely confused, his jaw so tense he was sure he was gaining a tension headache just by standing there, every muscle in his body aching to go back to her and contracted by the strength it took him not to. He wouldn’t touch her if she just said no, but what was she playing at? He tried to breathe, leaning back on the counter on the other side, looking at her in the eyes, feeling his pants tight. Her eyes were as dilated as he had imagined, she was as flushed as she had felt under his breath, he could even notice how her chest went up and down frantically with her ragging heart. Her mouth parted as she breathed quickly. She was as turned on as he was and there was not a single way to deny it. What the fuck was she playing at? 

“I need to go,” he said finally, feeling drowned, turning for the door and taking his running shoes and car keys. He would put them on the elevator, he just needed space between him and Anne right now. He left out a frustrated cry as soon as he closed the door behind him, not caring at all if any of the neighbors heard him.

Anne heard his groan and closed her eyes. It had transmitted just how she felt. But she was sure she had done the right thing. Having sex with him would only spoil the friendship they were finally enjoying after so many years. And she was enjoying it. And sex only made everything more complicated, as far as her experience went. Complicated and decidedly not worth it.

**Gilbert Blythe (18:20): Lend me Bear? And some shorts? I’ll be there in ten.

**Fred (18:21): K.

“What is going on, Blythe?” Fred asked as soon as he opened the door. 

“I need to go for a run or something now, don’t judge. Shorts?”

“Bathroom. I’ll get the collar. Want me to come?”

“You’ll not be able to keep up,” Gilbert was honest. He wasn’t planning on going easy. He went to the half bathroom next to the main door, the short folded over the sink. He changed quickly, leaving his pants folded on the same spot along his shirt. “Can I shower here after? I’d rather not go home early.”

“You can but now spill. What is going on?” Fred answered, voice stern, Bear on his leash, sitting next to him. Tail waving.

“Don’t push it, Freddie,” extending his hand to receive Bear, still tense.

“Blythe,” Fred said in a warning tone, still keeping the dog from him.

“I am just frustrated. She’s fine, we haven’t fought, nothing. So breathe. I just need to vent out because otherwise I will die and exercise is the best way to do so now. And I can’t see her anymore today. So please, give me Bear?” Fred extended the leash, finally, and Gilbert went back to his car, letting him in in the back seat.

“Come back in time for dinner!” Fred called, and Gilbert answered with a signal as he closed his door.

He went to Confederation, a park next to the lake with a long running lane, where he used to go with Bear. First they went to swim in the still cold water. Then to run fast for some kilometers. Because he knew the dog was able to keep up. Then they stopped, when he finally felt calmer, and sat on the grass next to the panting dog. He served him some water and leaned back for a while. Images of Anne in the kitchen, flushed, her lips parting just so, flowed his mind.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed. He tied Bear to a tree (he was still prone to running off) and did whatever crossed his mind that sounded more tiresome as the dog slept and drank from a portable bowl he had brought. Planks. _That damn freckle in her chin._ Push ups. _What was she wearing today? They were now wearing just underwear around each other?_ Reverse lunges. _Her smell. How on earth could she smell that good?_ Squats. _The way her pulse felt as he kissed her._ Burpees. _How she seemed to lose her breath when he got too close._ Crunches. _That damn camisole and nonexistent shorts._ Whatever.

He pushed himself as hard as he could, every time Anne appeared on his mind winding him up even more. Bear watched him, curious, and napped when he got bored with Gilbert’s antics. He was already sweaty and tired when he decided it was enough. The dog sat down, waving its tail as if he was just out. That’s why he was the best exercise buddy.

“You have to be joking, Bear. We already ran six k. We swam. I… well, you did nap,” he told the dog. But then he remembered the way she had been caressing him the other day. “But it’s your lucky day, here we go for the next six,” he said. Whatever it took to get her out of his head. It would not do.

Gilbert was exhausted by the time they were back at Fred’s door. Ella opened the door, grimaced, and signalled the direction of the upstairs bathroom.

“There’s anything you need there. I already took your clothes upstairs. Please, feel free to use Fred’s deodorant,” she said. Gilbert nodded, too tired to speak, a look of defeat in his eyes. “Dinner’s on the stove. I already ate but Fred is waiting for you. I’ll be up so you both can talk,” she added.

“Thanks, Ella,” Gilbert said, going up as he felt how every muscle was already hurting so much it didn’t seem real. He came down ten minutes later, hair still wet as he tried to dry it with a towel.

“Honestly, Blythe, time for a cut,” Fred said from where he was reading. He got up and went to retrieve the plates Ella had left for them. It was quite late already. Gilbert glanced at his phone.

“Tell our premier to open up,” he answered. “I’m not emulating your style, thank you.”

**Carrots (20:12): Are you coming back for dinner?

**Carrots (20:42): Nevermind. I ate. Left you something in the fridge.

**Carrots (21:15): I guess I’ll see you tomorrow? Take care, please.

**Gilbert Blythe (21:25): All good. At Fred’s. See you tomorrow.

“Who cooked this?” he asked before taking the first bite, looking at the dubious concoction in front of him

“Ella. And you’re eating it. You came unannounced, deal with it,” Fred answered. “So, spill. What happened?”

“Still not talking about it,” Gilbert answered. He had been this close tonight. _This_ close. And she had said no. They ate in silence for a moment. He had worked out so much he was famished and didn’t mind Ella’s cooking. “Why in the world would she say no, as in ask to stop, if she is evidently worked up?” he asked suddenly after a while. Fred looked at him.

“Because she is scared or uncomfortable or has had a bad experience, or… I don’t know, Blythe, any number of reasons. What were you doing? Last I knew you hadn’t even kissed her.”

“I haven’t. That’s what I was about to do, when she stopped me.”

“What were you…?”

“Must you know all the details?”

“Of course not, I just relish in how uncomfortable you are right now. But it would help, here I thought you were about to have sex and she stopped you, but it’s only that you were about to kiss her and got that reaction?”

“I had… been kissing her. Before. On the neck. On the chin. And maybe I was riding her up. Caressing her on the arm, on the waist… It wasn’t even that much, now that I think of it. Believe me, at least I can tell when a woman in front of me is excited. And she so was. I swear. I was not forcing her to do anything and she was almost panting, Freddie, I swear. And then she told me to stop. Out of nowhere,” Fred looked at him, frowning.

“I don’t know, Blythe… I would venture to say she is scared, maybe about what can happen if it doesn’t work out for you guys. Maybe she’s thinking this way she can have you but don’t risk anything more than necessary, even if she wants to? As a sacrifice?”

“She told me she was scared, once,” Gilbert commented.

“Well, there you have it.”

“I’ve been trying to follow her pace, Fred. But it really is becoming an impossible endeavour. She drives me crazy. I won’t be able to keep this up much longer,” he was honest. “And ever since we came here for dinner, I’ve been trying to be more evident… To see if your strategy works. Nothing. I end up losing, frustrated as I am,” he said. “Hence me coming for Bear.”

“There’s always…” Fred started and Gilbert gave him a dark glance.

“Don’t go in there, Fred,” he said, darkly.

“Just saying, it could help. And there’s nothing wrong with it. Coffee? Tea?”

“I should probably head back. I am dead tired, I hope I’ll sleep and tomorrow everything will make sense again,” Gilbert answered, getting up. He winced as everything hurt.

Gilbert opened the door of the apartment, finding it completely dark. The door to his bedroom closed. He sighed. It was not that he had expected her to wait for him, but it felt weird now to come back to such a silent place. He went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and found a note.

_Sorry. I’ll figure it out._

He huffed. Was that supposed to be reassuring? Figure it out how? He drank, watching the note. He put it on the fridge with a magnet. _There, have your note watch you every day, Anne, see how you do._ He went back to the living room and opened the sofa bed, trying to remember when his lease contract finished. He would get something with two bedrooms and have a proper guest bedroom. This was tiring. He collapsed in bed and was asleep before he even noticed, so tired he was.

The next day everything hurt so much Gilbert would have called in sick if it wasn’t because they were so short staffed at the moment. He got up, stretching gingerly. There had to be a better way to release sexual tension. One that didn’t involve sex or pain. He went directly to the bathroom, and sighed as he got under the hot spray, trying to move the stiff muscles. He really had to learn to stretch better.

Anne heard him start the shower and put on his hoodie before going out of the bedroom. She felt slightly ashamed of her behaviour the day before. She really shouldn’t have allowed him to have her like that if she wasn’t ready for what it implied. And she had put on the hoodie and some pants, because it wasn’t that fair either to walk around half naked. She was not going to show anything more than necessary until she was ready to act on it and acknowledge the look he had yesterday meant what she wanted or was decided on never wanted anything with Gilbert Blythe. 

When she found her note exactly at her eye level, she knew Gilbert had not only seen it, but left it there on purpose. As if it was more a reminder for her than an apology for him. She ignored it and looked for the milk and the things she needed to prepare a nice breakfast to somehow compensate for her awful behaviour.

Gilbert turned off the shower and heard her busying around in the kitchen. He had left his clothes on the sofa, as he hadn’t really counted on her being awake. He was fully prepared for another spell of Anne locked up in his room, not one of Anne waking up extra early. Oh well. Too bad for her.

“Morning,” he said as he crossed the kitchen’s threshold. Anne looked up, flushed brightly and looked back down to the cutting board. He noticed how uncharacteristically covered she was but didn’t say anything else as he went to the living room and put on his pants. She could cover all she wanted. He was not buying it and, what’s more, he decided to make her squirm as much as she had these past few days. Only he did know how to maintain control, he thought as he remembered the day she had given her the massage. He went back to the kitchen still drying his hair with the towel, but fully dressed now.

“Slept well?” she asked, hopeful, her cheeks still rosy. The island had coffee, some toast with some fresh fruit cut up on top and another one with hummus and avocado.

“Very well, thank you,” he replied. She looked to the floor, uncomfortable. “That looks delicious, Anne. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome…” she said, sitting next to him. She seemed awfully uncomfortable. “Gil… I’m sorry,” she said finally.

”What for?” he asked, as if somehow it wasn’t evident. He wanted her to spell it.

“For… yesterday, in general,” she replied, even more flushed.

“And in particular?” he pushed. If he had gone to run more than ten km, swam three and done countless rounds of whatever crossed his mind, she had to say something else. Be as specific as his mind had been. She looked at her dish in silence. “Anne?” she was even redder now, and he had thought that was impossible.

“For winding you up,” she finally said, her voice utterly low, her eyes still on the crumbs of her dish. He reached for her hand and squeezed it for a second before retiring it.

“Don’t worry. Thank you for the note. Is there a defined timeline to accompany it, or…?” he prompted, testing the waters. She laughed.

“No timeline. I’m sorry about that.”

“Let me know when you do, then,” he said, because he would hang on to that. In the hope she would actually acknowledge what her body seemed to be screaming.

“Yup,” she conceded. “I wanted to ask you… the boxes are driving me mad,” Gilbert looked at her. That wasn’t a question.

“I’ve told you, unpack whatever you wish, do as you want around here,” he said, as she wasn’t elaborating.

“Well, yes. Thank you. But there are some things that are not really to unpack. They’re…”

“I know. You explained before. But there again, you’ve been here about three months. You don’t have any plans to move any time soon. You even have health insurance here and you’ve been applying for jobs in the area. I’m not telling you to stay indefinitely if you don’t want to, but at the very least make yourself at home. Change things as they please you, move stuff around, push them to the end of the closet if you want them out of sight, whatever. I don’t mind, I’m sure anything you do will be an improvement,” he explained as she went silent again. She bit her lip. “I want you to feel good here, Anne.”

“Thank you, Gil,” she said. She’d had an idea nagging her for weeks now. “How come you don’t have any plants?”

“Well, the best thing about inheriting an orchard is that the trees are already grown. And then you find yourself with a great family that manages not to kill the trees. I have the blackest thumb ever, Anne. You should know that” she laughed, suddenly remembering a highschool experience. Gilbert smiled. “I’m pretty sure you know how to care for them, so if you want, we can get some.”

“Really?” she looked like a kid who had been promised ice cream. “But where…?”

“Nurseries opened at stage 1. So we can go on Thursday, when I have a free day.”

“We will! It’s a plan! But how come nurseries are open and stylists aren’t?” she was beaming, as if Christmas had come early, but still managed to sneak her comment about his hair.

“Mysteries of life in this province,” he answered, because he didn’t understand it either.

“Can I cut your hair now? Please? I promise it will look good,” she insisted. “You do look like a mess. And I could bet I’m not the only one who has said something. You’re a doctor, you’re supposed to be… formal and dignified.”

“Formal and dignified?” Gilbert repeated, his eyebrows going up in amusement. He was not going to tell her how his hair was starting to become a theme in the staff room.

“Well, yes,” Anne replied, as if it was obvious, pulling down the sleeves from his hoodie, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze. “You dress in those horrible things, the least you could do is have a proper haircut. Patients must think you’re still a resident.”

“They do not think I’m a resident. They have uniforms. And my scrubs are…” he couldn’t say nice exactly. Because he agreed with Anne, they were horrible things, but just so convenient. Maybe he should listen to Fred and start dressing in regular clothes with just his white robe on top.

“Appalling? Dreadful?” Anne proposed. He sighed.

“Cut away. But I'm telling you, if I end up with a buzz cut, you’re in trouble,” he said, resigned. She made some sort of happy noise and went for a towel and her scissors. “What’s that?” Gilbert asked when she arrived.

“You didn’t think I would cut your hair with the kitchen scissors, did you?” he shrugged, uncomfortable. He didn’t know anything and wanted the whole thing just to be over. 

“So, what do I do?” he asked. She laughed. He almost had a pout.

“Smile, for starters, here we go with the before photo!”

“There are not going to be photos of this, Anne! No photos!” If he was going to endure a haircut by Anne, there would be no registry of any of it. He was already not going to live it down at the hospital.

“Yes photos! You told me to document my day! This will be the highlight of it, I can just tell! So smile or you’re going to appear pouting and then you’ll endure Fred’s comments!”

“Fred’s comments?”

“Well, yes, he comments every photo I post,” Anne explained, as if it was obvious. Gilbert groaned in utter frustration. Why had he introduced them to each other? “So, smile!” she said, her phone in front of them for a selfie.

He appeared with an uncomfortable pout. She laughed. She was mean.

She put the towel on his shoulders and was about to begin when Gilbert spoke.

“Don’t you have to wetten it first?”

“Who’s in charge? Me. And no, I don’t have to. You have curly hair, dummy. Look ahead,” she said. “I’m not cutting much, so relax. Just trying for it to make sense.” He did try his best to stay still and look ahead, trying to minimize the damage. Plus, looking ahead and concentrating on a spot of the floor gave him something other to think of other than how her hands felt on his head as she combed her fingers through his hair and….

“Are you cutting it or not?” he asked, frustrated. He was already in pain. He didn’t want to repeat yesterday’s feat.

“Yes, yes, relax, Gilbert,” she said. She was actually enjoying touching his hair, as always, and this was between the new boundaries she had just set for herself. She was cutting his hair, so she had permission to touch him. She started snapping away, turned to look at him, snapped some more. Took a photo of him with his eyes closed and a pained expression. “Gilbert, honestly, it’s only hair. You’re so vain.”

“I’m not vain, I just prefer longish hair to asymmetrical hair.”

“Have some trust in me? Please?” she asked him. He nodded slightly. He had some, hence he sitting there. In pain. Because his muscles were sore because of her and now on top they were tense because of her. Anne would be the death of him. She stopped for a moment and he opened his eyes tentatively. “I’m not done yet, I’m just checking…” she said, and started taking his hair in sections to see if they were all the correct length. Finally she was satisfied. “Ok, let me take this off,” she said. “Don’t stand up and don’t go to the bathroom! I don’t want you spreading hair all over the place. Wait a second and I’ll sweep.”

“May I at least have a look?”

“Oh yes! After selfie! That way I get the three pictures!”

“Which three? And no after selfie, it was enough with the first one you took,” he said, stretching to grab his phone.

“The process one? So funny. Your pained look as if it actually hurt,” she said, grabbing his phone before him and putting it in her pocket so he wouldn’t use his camera to watch the result and spoil the effect. “Ok, smile for the camera! I’ll take you one so you can look and then we take a selfie. It’s the price you have to pay,” she said. He rolled his eyes. There was no way getting out of this. She snapped a couple of pictures of him alone from different angles and then stood next to him. “Ready?” she asked, turning the camera. He looked curiously at the screen. It actually didn’t look half bad. He sighed relieved and could actually half smile when she took the picture, posing with the infamous scissors. “Here, look. And don’t erase anything, I can just retrieve them if need be.”

He scrolled through them. She actually did know how to cut hair. It was probably the best haircut he’d had in years… Then he arrived at the pictures she had snapped while cutting his hair. Even if they were hilarious…

“You’re not seriously publishing any of this, are you?”

“Of course I am,” she said, dumping in the trash can the last of the mess. “Now, I would recommend you shower so you’re not itchy the whole day with the stray hairs, but it’s up to you.”

“But I just showered!” he said.

“Up to you, Gilbert, as I said,” she insisted. He went to shower.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what do you think? We're not ones to give much out... we don't want to spoil the story. But we can say this, at the very least: at least Anne is determined to figure it out?


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning everyone!   
> Our body still hurts after Gilbert's exercise. He might be walking funny and all... He did run a fair bit. But today is a new day! What will the nurses say (if anything)? Fred?  
> Today's chapter is special. It's a personal favorite and I don't have a running list for them :) We hope you enjoy it and that it helps bring something nice to your day.  
> Music to set the tone: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7nZSlYuHdOcge60w5k4vfp?si=Azx8ipKWSoKM1rYb5_gbtw

_ callmecordelia tagged you in a post. _

The notification sat on his screen for a while before he got the chance to see what the photo was. He did notice a couple of the student nurses (and then a couple of the senior ones) gave him weird looks, a couple of the more forward ones complimenting him on the new haircut, but he tried to ignore the whole situation.

**Josie @Avongang (10:55): I want a full explanation of how this happened and what is going on in Hamilton 🤨 [link of Anne’s post with Gilbert’s haircut].

**Ruby @Avongang (10:57): You look so nice, Gilbert! Love the new look! 💞 💞 💞 And first picture together in what, ten years? 

**Charlie @Avongang (10:58): I just want to know how the payment was. After all that suffering... 🤣

**Fred (11:03): Blythe, where are you? I have to see this with my own eyes 👀

**Tillie @Avongang (11:03): I just want to know if we can finally celebrate. When can we have a call?

**Gilbert Blythe (11:04): Sixth floor. Doing rounds.

**Gilbert Blythe @Avongang (11:04): All of you. Shut it. Call whenever you like, no mention to my hair.

**Fred (11:10): You’re a sensation, right now. I’m telling you- found out about your haircut thanks to a groupie of nurses who don’t know if they’re more in love with you or your wife. 

**Cole @Avongang (11:12): Nice cut, Anne! Gilbert, you finally look like a respectable real doctor!

**Gilbert Blythe (11:20): Don’t tell me 🙄 Would have never noticed.

He decided to open the instagram notification to see what the fuzz was about.

_ callmecordelia Quarantine cut, here we go! Will this pouty face get a happy ending or a fresh new buzzcut? Swipe to see! Personal favorite: suffering face in the middle of the process. You would think hairs actually have nerve endings. _

_ @Bashfromtrini: Queen Anne! Finally someone to get him presentable! I bow to you! _

_ @Beardad: You’re my hero Anne! Maybe the patients will stop coming to therapy because of his mop! _

_ @Jerryofgreengables: Sis, you’ve outdone yourself. _

_ @Kimsta1999: @betty.delsch @samrobertsoon look at Dr. Blythe! _

_ @Dianabaynard: Bosom friend, your talents surprise me every day 💙 _

_ @Josieandthepyes: Will you please get your act together, @callmecordelia and @gilbertblythe? Or are we having happy news?  _

_ @Janethelawyer: Overdue happy news, mind you! @callmecordelia @gilbertblythe confess! _

He swiped back and forth between the three pictures and glanced at the comments. As the nurses looked at him and giggled and then looked at their phones, where was Anne’s publication. That had more likes than anything she had ever published before. And more comments. And the gang going crazy on their group. 

**Fred (11:21): Have lunch with me? I want to see how you’re walking after your ridiculous exercise from yesterday.

**Gilbert Blythe (11:22): Walking perfectly. Two advils and a paracetamol and two hot showers did the trick. And maybe I’ll have a tramadol if it gets any worse. Parking lot next to the big tree? Weather's nice.

**Diana @Avongang (12:33): To be respectable he would have to wear something else. But agree with the cut, at least you look your age.

**Carrots @Avongang (12:34): Thanks! Now can you please convince him not to let it grow into that mop again?

**Carrots (12:34): Full success. Here I declare myself your main hairdresser, until I go back to PEI.

**Gilbert Blythe (12:35): Just stay here and you can claim to be that for longer 😉

Gilbert arrived first and sat on the bench next to the tree, waiting for his friend. He appeared not a minute later from the side door. When he looked at him, he smiled. Then his smile turned into a smirk as he got closer. Then into a huge grin.

“You’re a new man!” Fred greeted him as he got close. Gilbert shook his head. “Who would have said, mythical Anne has actual mythical superpowers? You look good, Blythe! Even better than the pictures.”

“It’s not even that noticeable,” he answered. Fred grabbed him from the shoulders and turned him to one side and to the other. “Wright, stop it.”

“I won’t. And it is. Now I understand the nurses. Head nurse Ms. Patricia wouldn’t shut about it in the lab. Now dress according to look like an adult,” Fred finally let go of him and opened his bag, which he had left on a bench. “Want to share? My sandwiches are nice.”

“What did you put in them?” he asked, before accepting. He would never tell Moody or Charlie or Jerry, but he was starting to like this not-eating-meat-thing.

“Seriously, Blythe? Cured ham,” Fred answered.

“No, thanks. But I’ll share dessert, I do know what your motivation was,” Gilbert answered, opening his salad with hummus, nuts and lots of fresh veggies. Fred smiled at him and Gilbert laughed. He was so easy.

“So…” Fred started and Gilbert put a bunch of stuff in his mouth to be able not to answer, because he could see where this was headed. “how was having her as your hairdresser? And chew, Blythe, you already eat fast enough without actually trying.” Gilbert ignored him for a second. “Believe me when I say I can wait for you to swallow.”

“I didn’t actually want to get it cut by her,” he confessed.

“What? Why? If I wasn’t already bald, I would want to get it cut by her!”

“That you walk around with a shaved head is only your fault. You’re not really bald. And I didn’t, because she doesn’t have a history of good haircut skills. At least she didn’t before,” Gilbert explained. 

“Do tell!”

“Well, she was… I don’t know, fifteen or something. And she actually hated her hair back then, at least until this happened. So there she was, complaining about how red was dreadful and so on...”

“But her hair is so nice!”

“Believe me, I know that. I love her hair. Always have. But she didn’t, so one day she bought this really cheap dye in Dollarama. Like a dollar for the tub or something. And… she said she followed the instructions to the letter, but I still don’t believe that. I don’t even know what she was aiming for, but next thing I know she’s texting me her hair is green as I’m about to enter hockey practice,” he said, laughing at the memory. Fred looked at him, spooked.

“Lovely Anne with green hair?” he asked, starting to laugh. Gilbert answered, trying to compose himself. “How did she even look?”

“I never actually got around to see it. I was about to go to her place after practice to see if I could help with anything and then I see a new text. It just said something along the lines of  _ all gone now, never look at me again  _ or something. As if I could ever do that,” Gilbert shook his head, chuckling at the memory.

“Hair all gone? What do you even mean?”

“What did she mean? Well, I went anyway and her adoptive mother, Marilla, let me in. She had this tragic expression as if someone had died. And then Anne was locked in her room and didn’t allow me in. So eventually I left, but she couldn’t avoid school forever,” Gilbert explained.

“You’re killing me, Blythe! Continue!”

“She buzzed it off. As in, you’re sporting the same haircut she had. Exact same,” Fred's expression was everything and Gilbert laughed again but tried to stop just to be able to finish. 

“How did she…”

“She went and took Matthew’s, her adoptive father, shaving machine and cut it all off. She had the cutest round head ever and everyone petted her for luck for weeks afterwards.”

“Are you serious? No hair?”

“No hair. Then she had a pixie for a while. It did look very good on her. And eventually it grew again, just a tad darker than before. After that, believe me, she loves her hair. Red or not,” Gilbert ended, a silly smile on his face. Oh, those had been good times.

“Well, it seems she has perfected her skills over the years,” Fred said, looking approvingly at him. Gilbert’s hand went to his hair. “Stop it with your nervous tick. You look like a teen and finally that cut makes you look your age. Seriously, Blythe, and I’m not even joking anymore. What about you look like a grown doctor and stop wearing those things? I’m sure Anne would appreciate it. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only med student in history who didn’t look forward to stop wearing scrubs”

“They’re practical,” Gilbert defended himself.

“Of course they are. Hence medical student uniform. They’re not professional,” Fred insisted. “Look like a grown doctor and maybe then you can even look into grown’s doctor’s schedules. As in, no more shifts.”

“I don’t mind the shifts. I’m used to them,” Gilbert commented. But he had thought about it a couple of times since Anne started talking with him and he began to consider maybe there was a chance of this working out.

“Well, maybe Anne does? Just saying… Look the part, and maybe do the part as well, dr. Blythe. You’re a good doctor, everyone says so. You know more than most of the gits in your department. McMaster is even trying to get you to teach. You can’t go and teach wearing that, they won’t take you seriously,” Fred insisted, and Gilbert could tell he was indeed being serious. 

“So… you’re suggesting I dress up?”

“I mean, how much is up to you, Blythe. But at the very least a shirt or something, you’re bound to have something other than scrubs in your closet.”

“I do. You’d be surprised, but I actually do have nice clothes. I just never use them unless there’s a business meeting or something,” he said. He had a whole area in his closet he only used when he went to Montreal and PEI to business meetings with Bash.

“For your cider thing?”

“If you appear more professional they don’t take you like a millenial trying to get over a fancy. Even if the fancy is the family orchard that’s been around 150 years. So yes, Wright, I even own bowties and suspenders and the whole show, because if I’m going to dress up, I do it well,” he said. “I just like old, trusted scrubs to come here, it’s not that I have zero taste.”

“Sooo? Tell me! What did people say to you at the hospital?” Anne asked him as soon as he crossed the door. He slowly took off his shoes, purposely delaying his answer.

“Isn’t instagram enough for your curiosity? What were you thinking, publishing that thing?” he asked, feigning annoyance, but she saw he was actually smiling.

“I knew it! See? You did need a haircut,” she stated proudly.

“Now don’t get so smug. You were not even the first one to suggest it,” he teased her as he went to the kitchen to wash his hands and grab a glass of water.

“I don’t even care. I got what I wanted. You look… more professional, now. Keep it up, dr. Blythe,” she said.

“Yes. About that, Fred has been on a mission about changing my wardrobe since we graduated and he is finally succeeding. You still need space in the closet? I was just going to reorganize some stuff, get rid of some things, and I could probably clear a couple of shelves for you,” he commented.

“I could, actually. Those boxes…”

“They don’t bother me but you did mention something about them the other day. So I’ll leave you the space, sounds good?”

“I could help you, if you want,” she proposed, as she didn’t have anything planned for the afternoon. He shrugged. He didn’t care one way or the other.

“Have you even been out today? Weather is so nice I don’t really understand how you’re wearing a hoodie?” he commented, putting the glass on the dishwasher and going to his bedroom. It was around 30 degrees outside. She flushed and one of his eyebrows went up, questioning, which made her cheeks get an even deeper shade of red. She had decided she was going to live in hoodies from now on. He shook his head and went to the closet. “You still have everything jammed on just the one shelf? Now I’m sure I’m the worst host ever,” he said looking around.

“You’re a good host. Really. Closet space doesn’t make a difference,” she commented. He shook his head, not agreeing. He sighed. Where to begin? Anne looked at how lost he was. Had he never cleaned his closet? “What’s the purpose of this?”

“Me, looking as a grown up doctor. Fred’s words. And I do know I have what it takes to do so around here, somewhere… Just all these things are in front.”

“So you’re not wearing scrubs any more?” she asked, excited about the prospect. Well, that made the whole activity more interesting.

“Well, I’m sure I will, sometimes. You can’t always avoid them. But not every day,” he accepted. She went forward, motioning the closet, and he nodded. She took all the pile and left it on the bed.

“Start there. You won’t need as many, then. Keep the best ones and donate the rest. Then we move on to the next thing,” she said, sitting on the bed. He sighed. This was going to take much more work than he had thought. He looked through them and kept the two that were newer. Anne nodded and put a stack of workout clothes in front of him, putting the pile of discarded scrubs next to the door.

“What? Exercise clothes?”

“If you’re organizing your closet, do it properly, Gilbert. I’m sure there’s stuff in there you don’t even remember,” she said, folding neatly the two remaining scrubs. He looked through the pile of pants, shorts and workout t-shirts and realized she was right. He kept the things he used. And then she replaced the pile with the next category. The donating pile grew bigger as he found things he hadn’t worn in so long he had completely forgotten about them, and the space looked airy and spacious for once. “Well, we’re almost done with this side, there’s only these boxes left,” she said, bringing them to the bed where Gilbert was folding a t-shirt. 

“Oh, great. I was actually wondering about these,” he said, picking Anne’s curiosity. She received the folded t-shirt and lingered a few seconds as he opened one of the boxes, revealing… suspenders? Gilbert owned suspenders? He wore suspenders? What? “Were they way in the back?”

“Um… yes, very back,” she answered, trying to imagine him in suspenders. The image made her blush, for some reason. He looked at her, confused by her reaction, and then focused his attention on the other box. He opened it. A couple of rolled ties and some bow ties. He always preferred bow ties, they didn’t keep tangling in everything. Maybe he was just clumsy, but bow ties were low maintenance and looked good. He nodded, took out the ties he knew he was not going to wear ever again, and gave them to Anne, who received them. She looked at them. They looked like nice enough ties.

“These can go,” he said, as he got up to put the boxes near the front of the shelf. After everything he had thrown, there were now three whole shelves more for Anne’s clothes or whatever she wanted to put in there. That was good. And he had already gone through his shirts and pants. So there was that. Pants, shirts, suspenders. Maybe the bowties were too much. He would ask Fred. He couldn’t even remember if any of the doctors wore ties.

“You don’t wear ties?”

“I actually hate them. Since I discovered bow ties have the same function and are easier to handle I haven’t gone back. Actually, give back the ties, probably Fred might get some use out of them,” he said. He took out his phone and snapped a picture to send him later. “So, finished?”

“We still have that door to go, mind you. We’re not doing this half way,” she said. He looked at her. 

“But that’s the winter coats and… stuff area. It can stay like that. I have like three winter coats and I’m not getting rid of any. And the rest of things are staying as well, I don’t even need to look through them,” he said. Not because he wanted to keep them from her, but only because he was tired. 

“But we’re so close!” she said. 

“But it’s already seven! We’ve been at this for hours!” he said. “Let’s eat something and then we can continue, yes? I haven’t eaten since lunch.” Gilbert looked so adorable in his new haircut, pout and everything, that Anne laughed.

“So what do you want to eat?” she asked.

“Cereal?”

“Really?”

“You asked! I’m hungry, I want something quick and easy. That’s the best bet,” he defended his choice, as he put the clothes to donate in a big bag. She shook her head. “And I like cereal. You’re not taking that away from me. So I’m having cereal. What are you having?”

“Something yummy and delicious, and I won’t give you any of it,” she said.

He laughed, following her to the kitchen. Anne didn’t give it much thought and prepared herself a sandwich with hummus, sun dried tomatoes, spinach, avocado and almonds that did look much better than his sad bowl of cheerios, but he was not going to say anything. Or ask for a bite. Or anything. Even if it looked that good. They ate in silence. 

Anne saw Gilbert and thought about how before she knew every single item in his wardrobe and now she was surprised with most of the things. Teen Gilbert wouldn’t have been caught dead in suspenders and bowties, of all things, and adult Gilbert had a small, but tasteful collection of both kinds, all neatly organized. Like all of his closet, that had been stuffed, but neat. At first, she was surprised about the revelation of suspenders and bowties, but now only wanted to know how he looked in them. It sounded so sexy. If anyone knew and would tell her about that, it was Cole.

**Anne S-C (19:08): Hey there

**Cole (19:08): Nana! That was quite the good haircut you gave to Gilbert, congrats!

**Anne S-C (19:08): Thanks! I’m actually proud. Not even with Matthew it ever turned out this good. And he looks so damn good. Photos don’t do it justice. Wanted to ask you (and please don’t judge), how does Gilbert look in suspenders? 🙈 🙈 🙈

**Cole (19:08): So freaking hot you can’t even imagine. I’ve only seen him wear them at formal events, but gosh, please convince him to use them with everything. Your life will change.

**Anne S-C (19:09): I just can’t get the image out of my mind.

**Cole (19:09): Because it’s that good and you know it. How are things going with him?

“Everything alright?”, Gilbert asked her when he saw her flush suddenly as her phone buzzed. She nodded, trying to think of how to answer Cole.

“Just Cole being Cole,” she said, not giving details. But he could see she was actually covering her screen. What were they talking about?

“If you say so…” Oh yes, picture for Fred.

**Gilbert Blythe (19:08): [Photo] Fancy some ties? They’re either for you or for the donating pile.

**Fred (19:10): Yes to the blue one and the stripped one. No to the others. What are you doing?

**Gilbert Blyhte (19:10): Organizing my closet so I can use my grown up doctor clothes. Wasn’t that the purpose of your lecture today? 😑

**Fred (19:10): Why give me the ties then? Grown up doctors use them. At least some days.

**Gilbert Blythe (19:11): Don’t like them. I have bow ties 😉

**Fred (19:12): Hipster dr. Blythe. I’ll see how that goes. Nurses will go wild.

**Gilbert Blythe (19:12): Shut it. I still haven’t donated my scrubs. Can always go back to them. 

**Anne S-C (19:12): I don’t actually know. Good, I think. Just on the verge. I’m undecided about taking the leap.

**Cole (19:13): Where’s the doubt?

**Anne S-C (19:13): Losing him again? We’re finally in a place where I think we could keep talking, after all this is over. I can tell he wants more. Sometimes I do, too. God, you should have seen him yesterday. I almost died. Too hot. But I don’t know, Cole. I’d rather stop this here and have him as a friend than getting together with him for a bit and then it not working out and losing him again.

**Cole (19.14): Have faith, Anne. Both of you have waited for years for the other. You don’t even have to agree with me, I know it to be true. I can’t tell you how to do it, but you need to learn to trust each other. 

**Cole (19.15): And fuck each other already. I have told you this for months and I will keep saying it: once you guys finally sleep together, everything will be so much easier. The unresolved sexual tension is a thing that is not allowing either of you to think clearly. Once you do, you will realise many things. Believe me.

“Anne?” Gilbert called her again. She was blushing so brightly, completely absorbed in her screen, and hadn’t heard the first time he called her. She looked at him. “I was telling you, if you’re serious about continuing, then we better continue or else we won’t finish.”

“Yes. That. Let’s go,” she said, blocking her screen. What was she writing about with Cole that had her all flustered?

They went back to the bedroom and he opened the final door of the closet. The one he almost never opened. Anne sighed, looking at the mess. Maybe it was better to leave that for another day. But then she saw some familiar red on the back of the rack and couldn’t help but to reach for it. It was calling her. The softness of the wool she knew by heart. The plaid she had made fun of at the beginning, just to hide how much it affected her how good he looked in it. The thickness of the fabric that was so warm it made her steal the jacket all through autumn, winter and spring, to the point Gilbert sometimes just brought an additional one for him.

Gilbert stood next to her, watching her eyes brighten and look so absent and sad as she caressed his old jacket, not even grabbing it. He never had the heart to get rid of it. Not even when he hadn’t worn it in years. It probably didn’t fit him anymore. But he just couldn’t let it go. He saw her swallow.

“I can’t believe you still have this thing,” she mumbled. 

“Of course I do. I would never get rid of it,” he whispered, putting an arm around her waist. She felt her eyes get wet. She had gotten rid of absolutely everything and for the first time wasn’t sure it had been the right decision. She leaned into him, breathing his familiar scent. “You ok?” he asked softly, not expecting this kind of emotional reaction from her while cleaning his old things. “I can look through this some other day. There’s no rush,” he said, because he didn’t want her to keep spiraling down. If his plaid jacket had her like this, he didn’t want to think about the rest of the content in there.

“No, it’s fine,” she said, trying to be strong. Fake it ‘till you make it, right? He looked at her, not sure at all of this. “So, where do we start?”

“Well… I don’t even know, to be honest. There’s just so much stuff. Not much clothes, just… stuff,” he explained. “I’m probably not going to throw anything away, so we might as well leave it as is.”

“We can at least organize it a bit, the space is not really optimized,” she said. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“You’re mental. Ok, let's do this. Probably let’s just take everything out? I can reduce the boxes to similar things and that’ll probably cut down on the clutter,” he said. They started taking out shoeboxes (apparently what he used the most to keep stuff in). “Wait. Before we take everything, because clearly we’re not going to get any space… Let me check through this quickly.”

Anne nodded, sitting on the bed. She didn’t want to appear overly curious, but she was a bit nonetheless. She had always known behind Gilbert's rational, calm demeanour he was sentimental at heart, but he didn’t show it much around. She was sure it was part auto protection, part wanting to appear thought. It was too endearing for her to handle. It had always been. So what was he keeping in shoe boxes in his closet?

Gilbert opened the first one. Well, nothing much there. Old receipts, some papers that didn’t make sense anymore to keep. This one was trash. Out it went. Next one… most of the contents of the next one should probably be trash, he knew. When he saw what it was, he didn’t open it all the way. It would not do that Anne saw how he still kept the flashcards she had helped him make for his studies, the doodles they made in class when in school and random pictures and stubs. He closed it quickly. 

“This one stays like this,” he said, not looking at her. She frowned, confused, but didn’t ask nor force the issue and put the box on the floor, away from the others. He sighed, looking at the rest. He should have thought about this better, looking through his stuff with the one person that had prompted him to keep much of it in the first place… Not by asking, but by merely not being around, was hard. He swallowed.

“You ok?” she asked. He nodded.

“It’s just- I guess there’s a reason I keep everything stuffed in there,” he said, for a lack of a better explanation. He grabbed another box at random, opening it slightly. Pictures. Ok, he could open this. Pictures were a slightly more normal thing to keep. He skimmed through them, smiling sadly. Most were of his childhood, when his father was not yet ill. A much younger Bash started to appear when he was around eight, when his dad had met him, freshly arrived from Trini. Anne sat next to him and he didn’t push her away. This she could see. She put her hand on his back as comfort, noticing how evidently emotional he was.

“They’re lovely,” she commented. It was not the first time she had seen the pictures. When he was sixteen, newly orphaned, she had helped Gilbert look through most of the stuff in his house. “I still stand by what I said- you should put them in albums.”

“No, they’re fine like this,” he said. For some reason, he loved the photos, but wanted to keep them close. Not in an album that could be passed around. “So, this whole box stays like this. Next,” he grabbed the next one and opened it without thinking, his mind still in the snow fight with his dad in Alberta.

Gilbert blinked, trying to understand what he was looking at, Anne’s hand frozen in a place in his back. Well, so much for keeping his weird boxes away from her eyes. He closed his eyes, cursing silently. Of all the things… Of the six boxes, he had to open this one. Not another one full of receipts. Maybe he could roll with it? Anne’s hand slid off and then he knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

When he had given her the small wooden fox from some obscure toyshop he had tracked down, he never told her he had gotten a set and kept the rest of the figures. In his mind, at the time, he was going to give all of them to her, at different times of their lives. He just never got the chance: the fox was the only figure he gave her before their falling out. But it was really evident the relation between all the figures: the light color, soft, waxy feeling, size, the roundness and timeless style of the shapes. Even with eyes closed anyone would guess the fox and the rest of the forest animals were related. He cleared his throat.

“Well. Long overdue, I guess,” he mumbled after a moment. “These were all meant for you, you might as well have them now,” he explained. Anne frowned at him. He was not going to explain the whole thing that was behind it. “They are yours, if you want them,” he insisted, passing her the box without even noticing what the small animals were on top off. She took out the elk, tentatively, caressing the wood with her thumb.

“I don’t understand,” Anne breathed. What were these toys? How come they existed and what did they even mean? How were they meant for her? She remembered the fox, how delighted she had been. How she used to carry it around as a good luck token and how it had burned to ashes in Green Gables’ fireplace.

“I know,” Gilbert answered. “You don’t have to. Maybe I’ll explain, some day,” he declared, closing the subject and moving on to the next box, trying to ignore her heavy silence. If he had opened the wooden animals and his highschool trinkets, there was not much left now that could cause any sort of sorrow. Yep, this one was trash. He noticed as she put back the elk and closed the box carefully, leaving it next to her. Next box? Uni trinkets. His first stethoscope. First ID at the hospital. Some pictures. Fred when he still used to leave his hair with any sort of length. “Look at this,” he passed the picture, trying to change the subject. She chuckled, but covered his hand with hers.

“Gilbert?” she said, and then looked at him in the eyes. “Thank you. I hope you can share the story at some point,” He nodded curtly, smiling sadly. He felt a knot on the throat. She looked at the picture he was showing her, because probably he was just trying to escape the emotion of the situation and appear as calm and composed as he usually was. “Can’t believe he had hair, at some point,” she commented, which made Gilbert laugh in relief. She didn’t comment on how the smile didn’t seem to reach Gilbert’s eyes in the picture.

“Ok, so there’s only this left,” he said, grabbing the last box. This one he knew what it had, it had been the one at the front of the closet and thus the lowest on the pile they had made. He smiled as he opened it and bright colours greeted them. “Delly’s drawings. I just love them,” he explained to Anne, who was watching each sheet carefully, feeling her heart swell. He picked one. “This is my favourite,” he said. He was going to return it to her, but refrained at the last second. “You know what? I want to see this. There’s no point in keeping it in a box, I just love it so,” he explained and got up. He went to the kitchen and put it on the fridge with a magnet. When he came back to the room Anne was looking through a stack of recipe cards. “Mary had hopes of teaching me how to cook.”

“How did that turn out?” Anne asked, stifling a laugh, trying not to sound too skeptical.

“Well, terrible, of course. You’ve probably managed to do more in these months than she did,” he replied. 

“I haven’t taught you that much. Just maybe a couple of salads. That doesn’t even qualify as cooking,” she answered. He shrugged. It was cooking, as far as he was concerned. “Some of these look nice, I could try them one day,” she commented. The swaps to adapt the recipes for her diet should be easy enough. “May I?”

“Of course, it’s not like I’m getting any use out of those. Mary would be happy,” he said. And he would get to eat the result, which was even better. “Ok, let’s put this back in there. Should we call it a night?”

“If you want. But I feel we’ve done so much, it only makes sense to finish,” she answered. She would not push it- he was clearly more emotional than he would ever admit, as she was, but there again, if he ever was going to clean the space… He nodded, sighing as he scratched the back of his neck. He had only wanted to find his suspenders, not this marathon down memory lane. 

Anne got up, taking a couple of boxes to the almost-empty closet. Other than the hangers with the winter coats and the red plaid jacket, there was not much, the boxes had been the bulk of it. He had some folded clothes on a top shelf they had somehow missed before and a black something towards the far end. She put the boxes in a neat stack, receiving the next set from Gilbert. He saw the top shelf and hoped she wouldn’t notice. Those… he knew those would only lead to problems. 

“What’s that on the back?” Anne asked. 

“Just my guitar. It can stay there,” he said, dismissively. He never thought about getting rid of it, but never played it anymore. Her eyes lit up and he saw how something was forming on her mind. “I don’t play anymore, Anne. It is staying there.”

“It must be like riding a bicycle! Please?” she looked so excited. And he had never been able to say no to anything excited Anne asked of him, even if he didn’t really want to.

“I’m sure I don’t even remember the chords,” he tried, his resolve waning. 

“All the more reason! You can practice again and remember them! Please, Gil?” The prospect of seeing him play his guitar again made her giddy inside.

Anne had always been mesmerized by how he did it, his voice always soft and quiet as he sang, only for himself. He had never performed anywhere, just a quiet hobby he had with his dad and she had discovered only by accident, when she arrived at his room one of the first times she went to his home unannounced. John had opened the door and urged her on upstairs, telling her to be quiet, his eyes telling her there was something good there. She had stood a good five minutes, heart in her mouth, watching him play and sing and noticing how handsome he was and how deep his voice had become, before he ever noticed her. There had been no way for him to deny he knew how to play after that, but she had agreed (reluctantly) not to tell anyone. Only all the gang eventually found out, some years later, only by chance, and she wasn’t sure if they had seen him play.

“Ok. But not tonight. Or we leave this thing as it is,” he said, motioning to the closet. Anne pursed her lips, divided between ending the task at hand and seeing him play.

“Leave it out? That way you can’t get out of it. And you should keep that in the living room or somewhere you can see it, so you don’t spend god knows how long without playing it,” she said, reaching to it and pulling it from its corner.

The case still had the exact same stickers as it had when they were in highschool. As if it hadn’t been touched since. Which it hadn’t, he had just kept it when he went to medicine school but never got around to play it. Studies were always the excuse, never exactly the reason. She examined it for a few seconds and left it propped against the doorframe. Then she reached for the last shelf left to do and he prayed it wouldn’t end on a fight- another one. 

“Maybe I should look through that,” he said quietly. She handed over the smallish stack, not thinking much of the generic university t-shirt it had on top. He sat on the bed, unsure of what to do. “You know what? This is going as it is back to the closet. I know what’s in there and everything will stay,” he decided, getting up and putting them back on the shelf. 

Compared to perfectly folded clothes on the other side of the closet, this looked positively shabby, but Gilbert was not going to refold any of his hockey jerseys in front of Anne. Not when they had caused so many issues before. He didn’t even know why he kept them, when they no longer brought out the good memories they used to before Winifred. Maybe as a reminder? As if he needed any. Anne reached for them.

“At least let me fold that,” she said. He put her hand on hers.

“Please don’t,” he insisted, and then Anne realised there was something there he didn’t want her to see. She frowned but didn’t say anything and stood back. “So, we’re done. Finally. I’ll put this next to the door to take out in the morning, I can drop off the donations on the way to the hospital,” he said, grabbing the bag in one hand and the couple of boxes in the other one. He went back to the room and she was still pensive, quiet, as he chose a change of clothes for the next day, in case she would still be sleeping when he went out. 

“Some tea?” he offered at last. She looked up to him and nodded, following him to the kitchen. What was in there that he so wanted to hide? They sat down on the couch, and she crossed her legs, cup on her lap as she was lost in thought. Gilbert turned on the tv, willing to distract his mind of everything at least for a bit before going to sleep.

“Gil? What was in there?,” Anne finally asked. He scratched his neck uncomfortable, trying to think of the right words. But there weren’t: there was no way to get around it.

“My hockey jerseys,” he finally answered, his voice sad and quiet. Anne didn’t look up, but he felt how she shrank. He turned off the tv. She stayed silent for a moment, remembering how Winifred had appeared one day clad in that, the 05 and Blythe on her back, and she had felt her heart shatter all over again. “Before you get any ideas- at first I chose to keep them because they reminded me of good times in highschool, and in uni I was all about reminders that there had been a good time at some point. Then they just kept lying around and I never got around getting rid of them, until… eventually they turned into a reminder, not of good times but of mistakes not to make again.” She still didn’t say anything, her eyes fixed on her cup, and for a second he was scared they would actually go back to her being locked in his room. “Anne, please look at me?” She did, reluctantly, because by then she knew she couldn’t well hide if she wanted any kind of friendship with him. Eventually they’d have to face every painful memory, one by one. Even if it hurt like hell. He felt some relief when she acknowledged him. “I never gave it to her. She took it, and then I gave her a piece of my mind because she had no right to do so. I ended everything with her not two days after, when I realized how messed up was everything. But I never offered your jersey, never condoned it when she wore it that one time, and… it probably doesn’t make that much sense to you and I understand that. But it was like that,” he said. 

“Ok,” she said after a moment. 

“Ok?” He repeated, not really understanding her reaction. 

“I always thought you had given it to her. But if you say you didn’t, I believe you,” she said, lowering her gaze to her tea. “I can actually picture her going for it, so it makes sense,” she explained. 

“Thank you,” Gilbert said, feeling a weight come off his shoulders. “Come here?” He said, and Anne went willingly to rest on his chest, relaxing what she could. It got easier after a few moments and she curled on him as he turned the tv back on.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had anyone missed the suspenders so far? I mean, they're on the tags :) It was about time we lived up tot them. And try to picture him... We trust Cole's judgement.  
> Anyway! A bit of a trip down memory lane for these two, plaid jacket and all, but at least no one is yelling for now. We hope you liked it as much as we do!  
> Take care, stay safe :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo everyone ready for the nurses reaction to dr. Blythe's new wardrobe choices? For maybe more cuddling? We hope you like this chapter. It was really fun to write and we hope you appreciate it as much as we do. Just one last thing....We apologize in advance? You will know why once you read it. Enjoy!
> 
> Oh, and here's the music for today! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7Ct6s6tUvZfQ1E9dThZybn?si=-XeeYN4JSkm864GjGnpxFQ

At some point, Anne straightened a bit under his arm, effectively burrowing her face between his collarbone and his neck. He didn’t think much of it at the beginning, as she was probably tired of the other position, but he did feel her breath just where the collar of his shirt ended. It was a delicious sensation, but by then he had decided no amount from teasing from Anne would undo him. Or at least, that was the plan. 

She was not watching the series he had put on the tv. Instead, she had been reading a book, but she must have gotten bored or something (he would never know) as her kindle lay forgotten on the sofa and she started making small patterns with her fingers on his chest. He tried to focus on the show, but it soon was becoming too distracting, every nerve of his chest sensitive in anticipation of her unpredictable touch. Just following her lead (if she was caressing him, why wouldn’t he?), he caressed her arm slowly, the other one resting on his side, fist clenched to ground himself.

The moment he felt her mouth give him a kiss on the collarbone- an actual, lingering, slightly open mouthed kiss, his breath hitched. He swallowed. His body was still hurting from the strenuous exercise from the day before and he would not be able to do it all over again. One time, ok. More, it was not sustainable.

“Anne,” he said, his voice strained. She ignored him, another kiss closer to his neck, her hand on his chest. He stopped caressing her arm but didn’t take off his hand, relishing on how toned her arm was after weeks of doing yoga daily and how soft her freckled skin always was. “Anne, please stop,”

“Why?” she mouthed into his neck before giving him another kiss and he swallowed again.

“Unless you figured it out since yesterday, please stop now,” he insisted, feeling her chuckle bring even more blood down. Her laugh was so alluring. So fresh, so tempting.

“Maybe I did?” she said, biting him teasingly on the thin skin below his ear, making him inhale sharply. This was either the most delicious form of torture or the best news he’d received in years and he couldn’t quite point which option was the correct one as the hand she had on his chest pushed him as she straightened.

“Carrots,” he said. He would try one last time. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I am, Gil,” she said, smiling before straddling him. He looked at her from below, where she had pinned him to the sofa, expectant. He felt her weight on his waist, so close to his crotch it almost pained him. If only she had...Gilbert didn’t dare move a single muscle for fear of ending the enchantment and this dream. It had to be a dream. Reality could not be this good. She smiled, even more teasing in her eyes, and he saw as she came down to kiss him- a kiss so passionate it left him without the ability to think coherently. His hands shot to her- one bringing her even closer to him as it grabbed fistfuls of her silky, mischievous red hair, the other one to the low of her back, bringing her even closer to… yes, there.

When she bit his lip, he corresponded and heard her whimper and move even closer to him, his hand guiding her. His erection throbbed underneath his pajama pants and jerked slightly at her sounds. She never broke the kiss, her hands grabbing his hair, caressing the nape of his neck, just as she had the other day… And he felt like he would actually lose it. 

“Anne-girl, I…” she shut him again, another hot kiss before biting his neck.

“Gil… let me take care of you tonight, ok? You’ve had an emotional day, let me help,” she said. Her cheeks were rosy and he could tell how affected she was, even if she was trying to convey her good intentions. His hips twerked involuntarily, eliciting another whimper from her. He thought about trying to compose himself but the idea was lost immediately as she started grinding against him.

“My god… Anne,” he couldn’t help but say, fighting for air and control. She whimpered, grabbing his neck, his hair for stability. Gilbert helped her, guided her, his breathing becoming increasingly erratic.. He saw her expression, mouth slightly parted, eyes so shiny, the delicious movement of her hips against him… he couldn’t help but let a moan escape. She smiled.

“Yes, Gilbert, relax,” he heard her whisper, but he could tell how much she needed him. Just as he needed her.

“You… Anne, you feel so good,” he managed to say, which prompted even more perfect movements from her and he moaned again. “Oh yes, Anne-girl, there…” He was so close to come, so close, but she seemed even closer. “Just… god, Carrots, fuck…” He saw as a moan started to form on her throat and couldn’t help but let go, feeling his release explode through his pants.

Gilbert opened his eyes, heart out of his chest. What happened? What in the… What was going on? Had that? Honestly, why was he...Where was Anne? Had it… It couldn’t be. Just couldn’t. He swallowed, taking his hand down to his sweats, fear forming inside him like a deep pit. Fuck. This couldn’t be serious. He threw the cover to the side, suddenly very awake, and turned on the light.

Shit.

He got up quickly and took the sheets off. Shit. Fuck. Damn. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. He was not thirteen, for fucks sake! And all his clothes in Anne’s room! Shit! Well, he had left out the things he was going to wear during the day, but still! The sofa seemed clean enough, which was the smallest relief ever. Who had this kind of problem at almost thirty? For goodness sake, he was not a teen! Ugh!

First things first, however. He stripped off his sweats and went to put everything on the washer. The sooner he got it there, the sooner everything could be forgotten. Shit, this was so uncomfortable, walking in wet boxers. He looked at the clock: 4:21. Ok. So he could technically shower now and have a nap after, he would just not put his shirt yet so he wouldn’t wrinkle it. He paused the washer and went to the bathroom to get his towel and take off the wet boxers. Throwing them in the washer along with everything else, he resumed the program and went to the bathroom.

Gilbert only stopped mentally cursing when he got himself under the warm spray of the shower. What had happened there? He hadn’t had an accident like that in more than ten years. Probably since he was seventeen. When he had realized how she had developed over the past months. He dressed up, leaving the shirt on the hanger but clipping the suspenders. If he didn’t do it now, he would probably forget about them and then suffer with adjusting his pants all day long. He opened the bathroom door, finally relaxed, as he dried his hair with the towel.

What he didn’t expect was to find Anne on her cracked-open door.

“Gil? You’re on mornings again? I heard some noise…” she said sleepily. He felt his ears get warm, as flashes from his dream came back. Shit. How could he get around her now? It was probably written all over his face!

“I… eh… couldn’t sleep,” he said dumbly.

“You’re ok?”

“Yes, yes, all good. Go back to bed, Anne,” he answered, just as the washer started the spin cycle that could be heard from where they stood.

“Are you washing something now?”

“Spilled a tea,” was the first thing that came into his mind as he blushed furiously. Anne looked curiously at him, not understanding anything but more awake as seconds went by. “Anne, it is too early for you to be up. Go back to bed, please, I don’t want you to miss out on sleep,” he insisted, because he wanted her, her camisole and her shorts out of his sight. 

“I’m too awake, now,” she said. “I’ll fetch a tea and probably do yoga or read or something and take a nap later on.” Please, god, let her not do yoga now, was the only thing that came to Gilbert’s mind. He nodded, as there was no way to force her to sleep, and went to the kitchen to put water to warm.

**Anne S-C (08:32): I can’t hold it any longer. You better be awake. I know you said he looked good in suspenders but this is criminal.

**Cole (08:34): Had to go to the workshop early to receive a clay shipment. Been up since 7:00. 😴

**Cole (08:34): So, suspenders, right? 😏 I told you. A treat for the eyes.

**Anne S-C (08:34): It doesn’t make sense 😳

“Sorry to call you, but we want to hear this live,” Cole said as she answered the video call with a roll of her eyes.

“Hello, love!” Roy greeted her, still on pajamas. “So, tell us!”

Anne felt her cheeks go red.

“I wasn’t expecting a questioning, I only wanted to vent my frustration!”

“You get to do both, Nan, tell us everything!”

“Well, somehow his friend Fred convinced him that scrubs is not the way to dress,” she said.

“Finally!”

“About time!”

“Well, yes! But then he decided to reorganize the closet to find his nice clothes… That’s when I wrote to you yesterday, Cole,” she said and he nodded on the screen. “Well, this morning I woke up so early… Not even 5:00 am, mind you, because I heard noises. So I go out of the room and find him in the bathroom. You know how he dries his hair?”

“No idea, because we’ve never lived with him. Oh wait, I do have a memory of the dressing rooms in school. Anyway, tell us!” said Cole, excited.

“He dries it with the towel… but like, I don’t know, you want to be the towel or be dried by him or something. It’s like… He is careful but insistent?”

“Sounds like him. So he was drying his hair?”

“Oh yes, he was. And he was dressed… I mean, he had his undershirt on, because now that he will wear shirts he thinks it’s important for some reason, and his pants, the nice ones, and the suspenders were just… hanging,” she said, remembering how he looked, all freshly bathed, just shaved. “He looked… as if someone had just taken him from a fifties movie? But hotter. And cleaner. He smelled like this foresty aftershave he buys…”

“Why are you not sleeping with him, again?” asked Roy.

“Because I prefer to keep him as a friend,” Anne explained, as if it was obvious.

“She is convinced they’ll get together for two hours and then break up and never speak again. Because that can’t happen when you’re friends, right, Anne?” Cole pointed, looking at her. She blushed. “So that’s your suspenders story? He didn’t even have them on!”

“Oh, just wait, Cole Mackensie!” she scolded. “So there he was, and then turns and I don’t know what happened with him but he had this cute blush? Like barely noticeable. And then he explained how he couldn’t sleep, and he spilled some tea and was washing the sheets…” Cole and Roy looked at each other and burst out laughing. “What?”

“Oh, dear, you’re so innocent,” said Roy, trying to contain his laughter. “So, continue?”

“But why am I innocent?”

“Nothing, nothing! Just continue with the story. So, he spilled tea and was awake at four in the morning?” said Cole, evidently trying to bite a laugh. Anne nodded, as confused about everything as she had been in the morning. She frowned, but continued anyway.

“So, he looked like this… And then went on to prepare tea and everything. At some point, when he was about to leave, he put on his shirt… But he doesn’t even go to the bathroom to change!”

“Anne, putting more layers on you doesn’t count as changing. And he walks around with no shirt. Why would he go somewhere else?” Cole asked, confused.

“Well, he opened his pants! To tuck in the shirt!” Cole and Roy laughed.

“You’ve got it bad, girl,” Cole said.

“I know! And I’m trying to get over it! But then he tucks the shirt in, and pulls up the suspenders, and… My god, I can’t believe it. I’ve seen shirtless Gilbert Blythe. I’ve seen all these Hollywood actors. But this? This is something different,” she said, a blush in her face.

“Darling, there’s no use. You’ll not get over it. And this will just keep getting worse if you don’t go away or act on it. You told me about it when we met at Queens and I have told you, now is your chance,” Roy insisted.

“Nan, we all support you. You and Gilbert. We all know you are meant to be together. Dancing around each other is something both of you excel at, but you have to put an end to it at some point,” Cole said.

“But what if…” Anne started, Gilbert’s image still in his mind, his questioning eyebrows directed at her blush when he was adjusting the suspenders in the morning.

“Anne, what if it works?” Cole insisted. “What if both of you finally get what you’ve been dreaming of?” She bit her lips, unsure. “Please think about it. You’ve told me you’re open to forgiving him. I think you’re there. But what about being open and honest with yourself about what you really want and not about what the safest option is?”

**Fred (10:57): I need to see you. I’ve heard no less than three nurses talk about how cute Dr. Blythe got a makeover and is now the hottest on the building. They were telling me that. What do they think about me, that you could somehow interest me? 🤭 🤔

**Cole (11:05): Dude, I’ve been debating about writing to you the whole morning. Anne bought your story about the tea, but make a move already? For your own good?

**Fred (11:10): I’m telling all the nurses how you are doing this because your wife knows better and you just follow her around like a puppy. Which you do. Only she’s not your wife.

**Fred (11:17): Dr. Shephard also commented on how pro you look (just as I said!), and you still don’t answer me. Blythe! Where are you?

**Fred (11:43): Blythe, by now I think you’re hiding from me 😩 And the chief nurse in oncology (Mrs. Vincent?) just told me you were around not ten minutes ago with a coffee. 

**Fred (11:44): Oh, and that you look great in suspenders. And that even a patient has commented something about your change to her.

**Gilbert Blythe (12:40): Don’t you work? And no, they don’t think that about you- they know about Ella. They just know you’re a gossip. And stop telling tales, Wright 😑 Not becoming on you.

**Gilbert Blythe (12:40): What are you talking about, Cole?

**Cole (12:41): Anne called me this morning to tell me all about how good you look in suspenders. Kudos about that. But then she told us an absurd story about spilling tea at dawn. She bought it and we didn’t explain anything, but we do know what happened, Gilbert.

**Fred (12:41): Still want to see you! Don’t avoid me!

**Gilbert Blythe (12:43): I might never talk to you again after this. Let’s forget forever about this incident. But thanks for covering? And do tell more about Anne?

**Gilbert Blythe (12:43): You’re behaving like a toddler! I’m not avoiding you- I work, and today’s been hectic. I’ll see you when I go out, around five-ish.

**Fred (12:43): 🤩🤩🤩 Parking lot! It’s a date!

**Cole (12:44): She absolutely loved you in those things. You look hot. So good move, dr. 😏 But keep it up. You’ll break her at some point, I can guess. Please do. It’s getting harder to deal with both of yours sexually deprived souls.

**Cole (12:44): And we’ll forget about the incident, as you call it 😉 You’re not fifteen.

“My goodness, dr. Blythe! Hadn’t seen you this dressed up since you received your oncologist degree!" Fred said, all proud smiles. “I knew you had it in you!”

“I knew I had it in my closet,” Gilbert answered. “I still don’t get the reaction from everyone. I still have the same skills and knowledge, it’s not like this maximises them.”

“I have been telling you for years! It’s all about how you present yourself,” Fred insisted. “You might know exactly the same, but the crabby old patient in his seventies will actually pay more attention if you tell him how his treatment is going to be if you’re clad in this- absurd as that might be,” Fred explained.

Gilbert nodded, because he indeed had felt a different attitude in a couple of his patients. Not all of them, of course, but one or two had been openly more receptive to what he had to say. An old lady, who always listened intently to everything he said, had praised his new look to no end, until he had to actually remind her that he was there to tell her about the results of her MRI, not to do a fashion show.

“So, Anne has seen you like this already? What did she say?” Gilbert laughed. For all he had been so, so uncomfortable in the morning, he realized at some point Anne had no way of knowing about his dream and could finally relax enough around six in the morning. And then he had seen how quiet she was, stealing glances to his suspenders, and then how flustered she became when he finally put on his shirt and adjusted them. “What? Tell me!”

“I think it’s safe to say she approves of the change,” he said.

“Tell me more, Blythe!” which prompted more laughs from Gilbert.

“She was all flustered. Like, red and uncomfortable and all. It was cute, actually. Never thought wearing this would have any impact on her. She’s seen me wear about everything by now, from a towel to a ridiculous costume in highschool, and the only time I got a comparable reaction was when I was either on a towel or just after exercising with no shirt on at the beginning of the lockdown,” he explained.

“You do look hot in this, if I’m honest,” Fred conceded, nonplussed. Gilbert raised an eyebrow. “Look, I don’t care either way, but I can tell. And you do look hot. If you don’t believe me, and want to avoid asking Anne, just ask any of the nurses. Or send a picture to your friend Cole, I’m sure he won’t have any trouble in telling you so,” Gilbert shook his head. All of that was out of question, and he didn’t particularly care if he was hot or not. As long as Anne was unsettled and flustered, he would wear this every day. Especially if Cole was going out of his way to tell him he was on the right path.

Eventually the hype about dr. Blythe’s new look died down at the hospital, but he was still met with a somewhat blushing Anne more days than not. She had kept up with her weird plan of wearing hoodies and pants in the middle of summer for a few days, but eventually something seemed to change in her and she came back to her camisole and flowy summer things. 

After talking with Cole and Roy, she felt the curiosity of acknowledging there might be a real future for a relationship with Gilbert. Only she would never do the first step. She knew it would probably be… gladly accepted, to say the least, but she turned into a muck every time he walked in the apartment smartly dressed. And every time he decided to hang out just in pajama pants. So, until she could handle herself around him, she would not take the first step. That was not to say she would keep shying away from it. So that’s when she decided to forgo the hoodie again. On purpose, this time. At least that gave her time to think. Maye getting involved with him wasn’t the best of ideas? It meant putting their friendship in risk again.

“I talked with Mary and Bash this afternoon,” she commented as he chopped some vegetables for a salad. She had insisted that he learn how to cook some things, for when she went back to PEI. Even if she was becoming increasingly unsure about ever doing so. How would she live so far away from him? Even if they never got involved in any sort of romantic way, she was leaning more and more towards just… staying around. Have him in her life, making up for lost time. She could look for an apartment around Hamilton or Toronto or whatever. Or go back to PEI. She hadn’t decided yet. 

“Great, what did they say?” he asked, continuing with the task she had given him. The afternoon was warm and they had the windows open. Gilbert had put on some music, mumbling how he didn’t understand how Anne could just exist in the silence of the apartment sometimes. She had shrugged. She loved music, yes, but she also loved silence, sometimes. Especially when she could hear the birds outside. Smiling at that, Gilbert had put on  _ Hasta la raíz _ by Natalia Lafourcade in a volume high enough for them to enjoy, but low enough so that it didn’t cover the sounds that managed to come from the open window.

“To go visit at some point? Restrictions are getting looser, and they said Delly is crazy about seeing you. And me, for some reason. I have no idea why that kid seems to love me so much, but hey, I won’t complain,” she commented as she put on a pan on the stove and turned it on. He chuckled. He did know why she loved Anne and he was 100% responsible. But he would not tell.

She turned to look at him. With the folded sleeves of the thin striped shirt he was wearing up to his elbows, coupled with those suspenders, he had left her speechless when he asked how he could help with dinner. The slim dark grey chinos only seemed to add to the outfit, and that he went around in bare feet was just the cherry on top. His dimple as he chuckled, concentrating on the carrots, was so endearing she could not take her eyes away. She bit her lip, doubting for a second, but then took out her camera and took a picture of him, the light from the kitchen’s window hitting on his hair just so.

“Hey! What are you doing?” he said, as he noticed the phone pointing at him just a second too late. She laughed.

“You’re cooking! I have to record this for posterity,” she explained.

“Let me see,” he said, leaving the knife on the board. She blocked her phone.

“You’ll see it later. Chop chop, the pan’s warming,” she said, grinning. He shook his head.

“Don’t you publish that, Anne,” he said, in what he hopped was a warning tone, but saw her face lit up and a wicked grin appear on her face and knew he had just given her the idea. “Anne, don’t,” he insisted but realised then he actually didn’t care if she did or not. She was part of his life now and it was hard for anything to get any better. At least until she  _ figured it out _ , as she said. He prayed she did it quickly and, please, the figuring included him.

“Oh yes!” she said. “Chop, Gilbert!”

He shook his head. When something got into her mind there was no way to divert her from it. He chopped the remainder of the carrots.

“Ok, so they want us to go visit?”

“Yes. They said early July? Make a long weekend out of Canada day?” she said. He nodded. Made sense. 

“Sounds good to me, I can ask for a couple of days at the hospital. It has slowed down considerably, so I don’t think they’ll refuse,” he said. “And I do want to see Delly. It’s been far too long without her.”

“It’s not like she’ll forget you,” Anne said. “Today all she asked about was you. And some fairy thing I don’t understand, you’ll have to fill me up on that before we go.”

“I will. Maybe. But no, I don’t think she’ll forget me,” he said.

“Aren’t you smug?” she teased.

“Of course I am!” he replied. “And proud of it. Not for nothing I was her second ever word in the world. Bash still doesn’t forgive me. But right after Mamma, there was Gilby, not Pappa,” he said, and Anne felt warm inside to see how he seemed to glow as he talked about his niece. How would he be with his own kids? She blushed at the thought, just as Gilbert turned to take the board to the pan and add the next ingredient. “Everything ok?”

“Yes! Yes. Just thinking. So, Canada day?”

“Absolutely. Let me just confirm with the hospital and then we’ll confirm to them, ok?” she nodded.

“We’re doing a road-trip!” she answered and he noticed how she seemed so happy at the prospect. The food was done quickly after that and they sat down, chatting about the books he had gifted her and everything she was learning just from them.

“Now imagine if you went back to study…” Gilbert said at one point. Anne’s eyes turned a bit sad. 

“You know it’s not that easy, Gil,” she answered.

“I know, but… Have you even checked where the courses are, how much they cost?” he asked. He had. And they were conveniently located in Toronto, just 40 minutes from his house by train. And she could study part time, or even virtually if she preferred. And live with him, not paying anything. Not that he was saying any of that now: she would absolutely freak.

“I checked a couple of years ago. Haven’t since, I’m just saving for now and when I have enough to live and study for a few months, I’ll look into a loan for the tuition. Or something. Maybe in a couple of years, if… life goes well then,” she said. He nodded, not wanting to push the issue now. “And I’m actually happy writing right now. I think there might be something there.”

“I’ll wash the dishes tonight,” he said, getting up, nodding at her explanation. They could look more into that at a later date. “I did notice you swept and mopped, even when we already had agreed it was my turn.”

“You work and I stay here the whole day, Gil. It’s only fair,” she answered, yawning. “But go ahead, wash the dishes. I don’t mind,” she commented, following him to the kitchen and turning on the kettle. She looked again at the picture she had taken of him and went to her instagram.

_ callmecordelia Guess who’s learning to cook- finally? Result was not only edible, but delicious, in case anyone who knows of his abilities is concerned. Keep up learning to be a grown up doctor, dr. Blythe! _

Tag Gilbert… and publish. He looked so good in that half body photo, the sun in his curls, the muscles in his forearms tense as he chopped, the smile in his eyes. Gosh, he was so handsome and hot and… everything she didn’t even know why she kept doubting things.

**Jane @The Dirty Details (20:05): Anne Shirley-Cuthbert what kind of picture is that!

**Josie @The Dirty Details (20:05): I said it before and I say it now: Gilbert Blythe is the hottest guy ever. Not my type for anything else, but my god, he is hot 🔥 🔥 🔥

**Tillie @The Dirty Details (20:05): Did you look at his arms? 😱

**Ruby @The Dirty Details (20:06): Is there any way I can convince Moody to wear suspenders? 💞 Maybe if I show him how handsome Gilbert looks?

**Cole @The Dirty Details (20:05): My god, he looks even better than I remembered. How sexy is that dimple just there?

“So, I have a couple of free days,” Gilbert commented as he washed the last of the pans from dinner. “Remember I told you? Thursday?”

_ @Bashfromtrini, @samrobertsoon and 33 others liked your post.  _

_ @Marycooks: I can’t believe you’re succeeding, Anne! It was about time @gilbertblythe learnt anything. I gave up years ago. _

“Sounds good,” Anne commented, unsure of what he meant. It’s not like he usually told her about his plans and free days or anything. And she didn’t particularly remember what he was talking about, feeling her phone buzzing with notifications.

**Jane @The Dirty Details (20:06): the dimples! the arms! the jaw! I would just undress him then and there!

**Josie @The Dirty Details (20:06): Me too. Fuck him there on the kitchen counter 😏

“I was thinking about taking you out. See some plants for the apartment? Maybe go for a walk or something?” he proposed. Anne turned to look at him, a slight blush in her cheeks at the conversation that was taking place in the group she always chose to ignore and where she never replied anything. Not that it kept them from writing. Gilbert raised an eyebrow.

**Tillie @The Dirty Details (20:06): Against it 😜 😜 😜

**Cole @The Dirty Details (20:07): You girls know your thing 😉 😉 Maybe they’re at it now and Anne finally gave in? 🤔

“Really?” she answered, absent minded, trying to get the mental image of the group chat from her mind.

“Why, yes. I just proposed, didn’t I? Well, I actually did a couple of days ago, but anyway...” he asked. She nodded brightly, suddenly remembering and blocking her phone. “Great, then. Anything else you fancy doing? Not much is open, mind you, but… Are you ok? You’re all red.”

“Yes! All fine. Just the girls being obnoxious,” she answered quickly, setting her phone screen down on the counter. He could never see that. “Maybe… I did like the trail we went to the other day. When you took me over to that other town to get the OHIP sorted out?”

“Grimsby? Yes, we can go there as well. So, here’s the idea: we go out early, pack something to eat. We can go to… wait, have you ever gone to Niagara? I feel dumb asking but…”

“I haven’t, actually. Never got the time when I went to Toronto,” she answered. She had even forgotten about the falls.

“You have to see them. They’re so… You’ll just love them, I know. So, we can go out early, so we’re there around nine and it’s not crowded?” she nodded enthusiastically. “Ok, so after that we can come back, go to that trail in Grimsby and eat there... and then I take you to a nursery Fred recommended that’s over Stoney Creek.”

“Sounds like a perfect day!” she exclaimed. He smiled at her.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...are you team suspenders or not? 
> 
> And about the dream....sorry? Please don’t kills us!!
> 
> On the bright side, there might be a road trip down the line, they're getting closer, having the hard conversations they need... So just maybe something will happen and Gilbert's dreams might become a reality. So there's that!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone!
> 
> So, we have a couple of take-aways from last Saturday's chapter: one, team suspenders won by a landslide. Two, the ones we managed to trick with the dream stunt... you guys weren't amused. Sorry? :) Gilbert was even more frustrated, we'll give you that.
> 
> Today's chapter is one of Hikari's favorites (it might also be one of mine). And unlike others, where the music is a really nice background, here it has more importance. We would recommend you listen to it and then read the chapter, or at least listen as you follow them around their day. Here's the link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oLJOLjPwqwePduSPMaEOB?si=wHlknZ1yTDmhjAKPbULIpA
> 
> So, with that, enjoy!

On Thursday Anne was so excited with the prospect of a small day trip she woke up extra early. Going quietly to the kitchen to put coffee to brew, she then peeked at the living room. Gilbert was still deep asleep, his face calm and peaceful, his stubble already present, his eyebrows relaxed. She smiled. He looked so sweet. She went back to the kitchen and prepared some sandwiches to take and then served a couple of bowls of overnight oats she had left on the fridge the night before, adding berries and chopped nuts on top. She set them on the kitchen island quietly.

Nodding at her arrangements, Anne decided to go for a quick shower, thinking about waking Gilbert up when she was ready. As he was deeply asleep, she didn’t think of taking her clothes to the bathroom as she did when he was in the apartment, but instead planned on dressing in the room, as she did while he worked.

Anne didn’t count on the smell of coffee waking him. She opened the door as he walked into the corridor, still sleepy-eyed, hair a mess, only in pajama pants. He looked at her, frowned, blinked, his eyebrows high, as she stood frozen, clad in the towel, hair dripping on her shoulders, her blush extending way beyond the boundaries of her face.

“Morning?” he said, unsure. That made her react and she walked the two steps separating her from the bedroom door and closed it quickly. Gilbert laughed, now wide awake. So that was Anne in a towel, eh? He went to the bathroom and then to the kitchen, where he found a bag with things packed for the day, the coffee that had woken him and saw breakfast ready on the kitchen island. Someone had been busy. He put the milk to warm and then served two cups of coffee just as Anne appeared, still brightly blushed.

“Hi,” she mumbled. “I made breakfast”

“Yes! Thank you. When did you wake up?” he asked, offering her a cup and going to sit.

“About an hour ago? I couldn’t sleep… But it was way too early to wake you, so… I kept busy,” she said, sitting next to him and looking only at her bowl.

“I saw that. Thank you for everything,” why was she so embarrassed? It’s not like the situation hadn’t been reversed other times over the past few months. “Anne?”

“Yes?”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” he said gently, motioning to touch her hand but refraining to actually do so, unsure if this was alright. He had been so sure not a week ago, but since she was… figuring it out, he didn’t know what to do. She looked at his hand, wishing it would touch her. Comfort her. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me like that.” 

“I know. It’s… embarrassing, still,” she mumbled. He chuckled, because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to convince her otherwise and he thought her reaction was endearing. He finished eating quickly.

“Let me get a quick shower and we can get on our way, k?” he asked and she nodded, distracted by the prospect of the day out. She went back to the room after cleaning the counter to slather some sunscreen on the arms as she heard him open the bathroom’s door.

“Hey, Gil? Can you give me a hand?” she asked. He appeared in the room and she handed him the bottle of sunscreen, trying not to let her eyes linger on him. He was going dressed like that? Was his evil plan to kill her? “I just can’t reach the back and if I go out like this I’ll turn into a tomato,” she explained. He nodded, squirting some on his hand and leaving it on the nightstand. He went to her back and admired her freckles just a second before reacting.

“Shoulders done?” he asked. 

“As far as I could, yes,” she said, which was… not much of an answer, so he decided to put more just in case. It wasn’t going to harm, anyway. He slathered the cream, feeling her soft skin under his arms and trying not to think of it. One day, hopefully soon, she would be ready. And if not, he would end in the psychiatric ward. This uncertainty was killing him. He cleared his throat. 

“Ok, let’s go now,” he said, and they went to the door. Grabbing his keys and facemasks, they went to the car and started the day’s trip.

First stop: Niagara falls. He parked a bit far, so the first look she got of the falls wasn’t from the parking lot and walked beside her, wishing he could actually grab her hand but not daring to do so. As they got close, she went giddy. The air was warm and humid, the roar of the falls already present. When she saw them, their horseshoe form and the seemingly infinite amount of water, she turned to look at him, her eyes wide. He smiled softly, just watching her enjoy herself. They got closer and she seemed hypnotised by the water, the energy, the noise. It was so early, not even nine, so there were hardly any people around.

“Gilbert, come see!” she urged him. He chuckled. 

“I’ve seen them, Anne, I can enjoy the view from here,” he said. She laughed and turned. He could see her from where he was standing, and that made the image all the more perfect. He took out his phone and snapped a couple of pictures. He walked a bit to the side and managed to catch her bright eyes without her noticing. He smiled and went next to her. “Everything you imagined them to be?”

“Much more, they are the most vivacious and vibrant and… can’t you feel the energy, Gil?” Anne asked, so excited she couldn’t contain it. He nodded, resting his hands on the rail, watching the deep blue water go in such immense quantities he couldn’t even dimension it. “Can we take a picture?” she asked, wanting to record the moment. If nothing worked out, at the very least she’d have this. He nodded and smiled beside her as she took the selfie. 

“That’s a nice shot,” he commented as they watched it. She nodded in agreement. His stub complimented the linen shirt he had put on with some thin suspenders, his hair wind-swept. She was beside him, rosy-cheek and overly freckled by the summer sun, her hair flying to the side. This wasn’t like the haircut picture, with Gilbert’s suffering face. Here, they both looked so happy, so open, so real, their eyes lit up. Like on that way too old picture he had on his dresser. “Are you publishing that?” he asked. She shook her head. No, this one she wanted for herself. Too vulnerable to be scrutinized by their friends.

“This is just for us,” she explained as she saw Gilbert’s frown. He nodded, releasing a breath. That was good. As much as he loved her publications, sometimes it was tiring to be dissected by their friends and acquaintances. 

“Come, we can walk along and go watch the other two.”

They spent a while more there before going back on the car to the trail. Gilbert suggested they go to another, but she was firm on going to the same one. Just by going that once, after those very hard days, she had gotten to love the place. They took their bag and had lunch in the same spot where they had stopped the last time. In her mind, it had become something of a special place.

“Want to go?” he asked when they were done eating.

“No. I like it here. It’s peaceful. What time does the nursery close?”

“Around five? We have plenty of time,” he assured her. She nodded and lay down on the ground, resting her head on his lap without even thinking.

He smiled, adjusting his position so she was more comfortable, and caressed her hair absent mindedly as he admired the view. This had been a great day. One of the best days they’d had in the past months. One of the best he’d had in the last few years, probably. It was just so fluid, so easy, so comfortable, as if they had done it a thousand times and it was exciting and comforting at the same time. He never wanted it to end, and yet it was already the afternoon. They stayed in silence, enjoying the songs of the birds and the whisper of the wind in the trees.

“This could be our life, you know, Anne-girl?” he whispered at some point, not sure if he even wanted her to listen. She had her eyes closed, but he knew she wasn’t really sleeping, as her hands were drumming on her tummy to an unknown rhythm. She sighed and he knew she had heard, but didn’t push it when she stayed in silence.

_ And what a life it would be _ , was the only thought in her head, but she didn’t dare expressing it out loud. Anne longed for him, now she was sure of it. She wouldn’t be able to get by without him. That had been a given most of her adult life, when she had just coped with his absence, but… She couldn’t be without him. She knew that now. A mere friendship wouldn’t do. How could she ever let him know she had figured it out? She yawned, relaxed by his touch. Maybe she could… be more direct? Not teasing him as she had before, but he always had the smallest gestures, so intimate and direct. Like this, just his fingers on her hair. Maybe she could do the same? She allowed herself to drift over, his caresses lulling her to sleep, trusting him completely, and confident she would come up with something. There had to be a way. Or she could maybe kiss him. There was no reason to wait for him to do so… Other than her insecurities.

**Gilbert Blythe @Family (13:12): Hey hey hey how are things in Montreal?

**Bash @Family (13:14): Lovely as ever. With a daughter that wants to know when her favourite uncle is coming up to see her.

**Gilbert Blythe @Family (13:14): Canada Day 🥳 Just got it cleared up yesterday. So we go on Tuesday evening when I finish working and come back on Sunday. Or something like that. 

**Mary @Family (13:14): How lovely! She will be ecstatic. Anne coming too?

**Gilbert Blythe @Family (13:15): Of course she is. She’s as excited as Delphine, I’m sure. 

**Mary @Family (13:15): So how are things going with her?

**Gilbert Blythe @Family (14:15): Good, actually. Things seem to be improving by the day 😊

**Bash @Family (13:15): Should we set up the double bed guestroom then? 😉

**Gilbert Blythe @Family (14:16): Not quite yet, Bashy 🙁 🥺 😢 

**Bash @Family (13:16): What?! Seriously?

**Gilbert Blythe @Family (13:16): Yep. Not by my account, believe me. But cross your fingers. I… am daring to hope.

**Mary @Family (13:16): Oh, Gilbert. We will pray for you 🤗

**Gilbert Blythe @Family (13:16): 😚 😚 😚 Please do, Mary. God knows I need it.

He felt as Anne stirred, a frown on her forehead. He soothed it with his fingers, gently, leaving his phone next to him. She opened her eyes, looking directly into his. He smiled.

“Slept well?” he asked softly, his hand still caressing her cheek. He was probably overstepping, but she had rested her head on his lap in the first place. She nodded, also smiling. She yawned.

“How much was I out?” she asked.

“Ten, twenty minutes? I wasn’t keeping track,” he answered, looking back to the forest. She motioned to sit up and he took off his hand. “So, ready to come back?”

“Yes,” she said. “To the nursery? I can’t wait to meet all the plants.”

“To the nursery,” he accepted and helped her stand up. They drank the last of the water they had brought before starting the way back. It was hot. “Or you know what? We can go a bit later. We still have time. Are you up for some ice cream? There’s the best place about half an hour’s drive from here. I think you’ll really like it,” he proposed, smiling. She nodded. The longer this trip could last, the better for her.

As they got into the car, Anne connected her phone. After he had told her the news of how the hospital had approved his days off in July, she was serious about organizing the perfect road trip playlist for the two of them and had been adding songs all through the morning. He proposed some once in a while, but was mostly curious about her choices, especially the ones that were not related with any of their past history. They helped to fill the voids in the years they hadn’t talked. 

Gilbert drove into smaller country roads, driving among the lush orchards, vineyards and plantations of the region and eventually saw the small roadside cottage he had visited once with Fred last summer. He remembered how they had vegan ice creams at the time, not that he had cared about at the moment. But Ella had said the chocolate one was even better than the dairy version, and she had been so right.

They went to the side of the cottage, close to a fence, away from the few cars that were parked, eating the melting ice cream relatively quickly. Even if they were only at 32º, the humidex was nearing the forties, a heat alert in place. Anne sat on top of the wood plank and Gilbert reclined on it, relaxed. Anne glanced at him sideways, just admiring how the arm he was resting on the fence was tense and marked, the sleeve folded up to his elbow, how he had the first couple of buttons from his shirt open, a smidge of his chest hair out, dark glasses on. He turned and looked at her, questioning. She blushed and looked at her ice cream. 

Gilbert chuckled quietly and stood properly, eating the last of his cone and dumping the napkin on the trashcan. He took his glasses off as the sun hid behind a cloud and hung them on the unbuttoned collar of his shirt before going back to where she was concentrating on eating through her double portion cup. He stood in front of her. Not too close: he wasn’t sure yet about anything and didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. He smiled as she scrapped the last of the ice cream. He knew her concentration had been half the ice cream, half trying to dissimule the blush that had crept on her when he had caught her watching him, but it was endearing nonetheless. 

“Ready to go?” he asked softly, taking a half step closer to her. She looked up to him, not having an excuse anymore. How did he manage to get ice cream on his chin? She giggled. “What?”

“You have ice cream,” she said, and he tried to clean it up. Only he missed the mark completely. She set her cup aside and extended her hand, grabbing one of his suspenders and pulling him closer to her as she said, “Oh, come here, Gil. Seriously…” she cleaned the ice cream (yummy chocolate) with the thumb of her free hand and licked it quickly, not even thinking about it. He felt his heart skip a beat as she did so, feeling the energy between them become suddenly charged.

She was so close right now and he felt tied. So much he wanted to kiss her, so much he knew he couldn’t just yet do so. He looked at her eyes, looking for any sort of change since that day in the kitchen, and felt that there was not the same doubt as there had been last week, but wasn’t quite sure. And without being sure, he would not move a finger. There was nothing that could keep him more still than a  _ stop _ or a  _ no _ from her, and there was nothing yet that could be interpreted as a definite lift of the prohibition. So Gilbert stood still, trying not to breathe, the suspender still in her hand holding him captive. He swallowed and closed his eyes.

Anne didn’t know why she wasn’t letting go of his suspender and examined him, his stubble, the eyelashes as he closed his eyes. She bit her lip, unsure. She went forward, slowly, wanting to kiss him but not totally decided yet. Gilbert felt her breath so close he almost begged, because if she kissed him… that would probably be the best moment of his existence. If Mary was really praying, she seemed to be so damn effective he would ask her to pray for everything from now on.

She so wanted to kiss him, but there again, did not want to do it there, she realized when there was only an inch between them. It was too much of a definite moment in their lives to be done on the side of the road as a truck passed beside them. So she settled on the best next thing and kissed him on his splendid chin as she had wanted to since she was fifteen, hoping that the gesture would convey her readiness and her  _ I-finally-figured-it-out _ . It felt as scratchy as she imagined, but oh so good. Before retreating, she could not help herself, and touched her nose lightly with his, playfully, just for a second.

Gilbert opened his eyes, surprised, still frozen in place. His mind blank. Or blown. Thinking only about Mary’s prayers and their effectiveness and  _ had Anne Shirley-Cuthbert almost kissed him?! _ She let go of the suspender and hopped down off the fence quickly before he could say anything. She grabbed her cup and went to the trash can, laughing.

“Plants?” Anne said smiling, trying to explain to him silently that yes, she was ready, but no, she would most definitely not say a single word on the subject so don’t push her. Gilbert stared at her. Had she just…?

“Anne, what..?” He stammered. She bit her lip and turned to go to the car. He unlocked it from where he was using the remote control, but didn’t move yet.

He scratched the back of his neck, trying to define what had just happened. Not two minutes ago he had begged silently for any definite sign of any figuring out she had left to do. Was that it? It had been pretty direct. He took a couple of deep breaths. This… thing Anne had just done, this gesture, this changed things between them. And she was conscious of it, he knew by the look she had given him before turning. He smiled slightly, not being able to help it, and finally followed her to the car. As he sat as she put on the playlist, again.

“Any new songs?” Gilbert asked, trying to divert his attention as he reversed and got on the road. He wanted to believe she had just lifted the ban she had imposed the other day, but he would still not kiss her. He would… come back to what he had been doing, his heavy flirting and teasing, see how she reacted to that. And then he would consider something more. 

“Not for now. Any suggestions?”

“ _A Horse With no Name_ ,” he answered, grinning at her. She erupted in laughter as she remembered how they kept watching over and over the same episode of Friends whenever they got too tired of studying and wanted something plain silly to empty their minds. She added it on the playlist and they sang along, windows down, enjoying the warm summer wind and the sun on their faces. The nursery wasn’t too far away and soon he entered the almost deserted parking lot.

“Do you have anything in mind?” he asked as they went into the nursery, putting on their masks again.

“Of course. To turn your apartment into a forest,” she said confidently.

“As long as you take care of them, it sounds good,” because her taking care of the plants meant her living there. She nodded brightly, not thinking of the implications. Oh well, even if she didn’t live in his apartment, but was still close by, she could come once in a while to care for the plants. Or she could give instructions over facetime if she ended up going back to PEI.

They chatted for a moment with the man in charge, Mark. He connected with Anne immediately, all smiles they couldn’t see but that reached his clear blue eyes, and she declared him instantly a kindred spirit. They followed him as he showed them everything Anne asked for, setting the pots on a wooden crate.

“Oh, I’m already thinking of the names for all of them!” she exclaimed at some point.

“Are you, really?” Gilbert asked, surprised. 

“Of course! This beauty here is Gertrude, of course. Have you seen any plant that looks more like a Gertrude than she does?” his eyebrows shot up, unsure. “That’s what I thought. You know, Gilbert, that’s the reason plants don’t like you. You don’t treat them with the respect and attention they deserve. They are all unique individuals,” she explained, before wandering down another aisle leaving Gilbert with a huge monstera plant in his arms as Mark carried the crate with the rest of them

“Listen to your girl, mate,” Mark advised him. Gilbert chuckled in response, taking out his phone and snapping a picture of Anne surrounded by so many plants. She looked so comfortable, so in her element, that he wanted to capture the moment.

“I always do. It's been something of a problem, sometimes,” he answered sadly. He rested the pot on the ground, as it was heavy, while Anne selected some smallish succulents. 

“Are you redecorating?” 

“Well… Not exactly. I don’t have any plants, as I can’t possibly care for them… But it’s been like an insult to her, so I told her we could get as many as she wanted, as long as she was in charge so I didn’t kill them,” he explained.

“She’s taken you to your word,” Mark commented. Gilbert chuckled, nodding.

“I have no problem. As long as she’s happy, I don’t mind having plants,” he replied. Anne called him. “I’ll be right back.”

“Look! Isn’t he a beauty?” she asked, showing him a cactus that looked like it had some silvery fine hairs.

“He?”

“Of course! He’s a total Raymond!” she exclaimed. He blinked. Ok, Raymond.

“Raymond is coming as well?” she nodded excitedly, small, happy wrinkles on the sides of her eyes as they did when she was overly excited, and he received the small pot. He knew underneath the mask she would have the loveliest dimples. “I just hope you have an idea of where you’re putting all of them.”

“I do. I’m checking off spaces in my head as I go along. I’m just missing one…” she commented, grabbing his free hand and pulling him further into the aisle. He followed, grinning stupidly. She was there, he knew instantly. He could feel it now. If he ever tried kissing her on the neck again, he knew he wouldn’t be pushed away, and it filled him with joy. He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb and she turned to look at him, smiling, a glimmer on her eyes that hadn’t been there two weeks before.

When they came back, Mark had gone to retrieve a small cart and was putting the crate and the pot with the monstera in it. Gilbert put there Raymond and Petunia, a peace Lily she had just baptized. They were complete, she declared. Gilbert nodded, not wanting to let go of her hand, and they followed Mark as he discussed care tips with them. Well, with Anne. He just pretended to listen, but focused on how right everything about this whole day had been.

“Ready to go home, now?” Gilbert asked as he closed the back door. Plants filled most of the available space in the car. Anne nodded, smiling. Home? Well, his apartment, anyway. “Bye, Mark. Thanks for everything.”

“Good bye, Mark! You have the most splendid space!” Anne exclaimed. Mark nodded smiling, and they were off. Anne opened spotify yet again.

“What about  _ The Woods _ from Hollow Coves?” he proposed before she said anything. She frowned.

“I don’t know that song,” she commented while she looked for it. Just the name gave her a thrill inside. She put it, adding it to the playlist (if she was entitled to add songs, so was Gilbert).

“I think you’ll like it,” he said softly, eyes on the road. The way he said it made her warm with anticipation, as if he was sharing a secret with her. The first chords started playing and she was silent, listening, something akin to impatience inside her. He knew the song by heart, as since the first time he had listened to it it had transported right to Avonlea’s woods, to his teen years spent there with Anne. 

The road went straight ahead, the summer sun still high on the sky and the air as warm as before. He looked at Anne. She was smiling as she listened as if her, too, could relate the words to their special places from their youth. To the new woods they were adopting as their own, now. He held the steering wheel with his left hand, the right looking for Anne’s. She gave it willingly, relishing in how strong and steady he always had been.

“We feel a little warmer now...”, he sang softly. She turned to look at him, eyes bright. This was the perfect ending to this day, that seemed to be such a momentous one in their relationship. Even if nothing would be evident to any outward eye. She joined him for the last chorus, and he suddenly realised how much he had missed her singing in all these years. He had to take that guitar now, even if he didn’t really want to, even if just to hear her sing.

After a whole day of activity and emotion, both of them longed for a bit of quiet. Anne prepared a salad, banning him from the kitchen as she wanted some time alone to collect herself. This day had given her so much clarity about what her heart really wanted, despite the risk that it implied… she needed a moment of quiet to mull on the importance of what was happening right now. She now could say, as certain as she would have if asked at seventeen, that she wanted Gilbert Blythe as her life companion and would do everything in her power to keep him by his side. And that she desired him more than anything. 

Chopping vegetables gave her the perfect opportunity to sit with her thoughts, with the expansion of her chest, without the distracting sight of Gilbert around. She sent him to watch a movie or whatever, and he had complied easily when he saw that she didn’t appear to be in a bad mood, or even closing off as she had some weeks back. Finally happy with the result of her cooking, Anne set the table.

Gilbert saw from the sofa, where he was on his phone, debating with himself on whether to publish or not any of the pictures he had taken that day. On the one hand, he wanted to- she looked so good and he just wanted to show the world how happy she was. On the other hand, he would never live down the comments- he hadn’t published anything for years and to have her as his first post back after such a prolonged absence… it would certainly elicit more comments than not.

“May I do something now?” he asked.

“It’s all ready, don’t worry about it.”

“Anne… I don’t really like seating while you do everything, you know?”

“It relaxes me. I wanted to do it. Helps me to think. So you actually did a favour by sitting,” she insisted, taking the plates to the table. “Come, it’s ready.”

“Looks so good. You outdid yourself, and I didn’t even think it was possible.”

“I think it’s the day. I was inspired,” she said smiling.

“I should take you out more often, then,” he commented, and saw her blush. He smiled. “It surprised me you didn’t post anything today,” he said finally.

“It… I’m undecided. Too many good things. I will, later on. I have enjoyed keeping this… diary of sorts. Gives a space to sort out the thoughts of the day by highlighting just one of them. Why don’t you? I saw you published up to some years ago,” she commented. She wouldn’t say she had followed him closely, but hey, now it was normal she had scrolled through his aging feed, right?

“Funny of you to say that. I was just thinking about that, but I don’t want to deal with it,” he explained.

“What, the comments? Just turn them off if they bother you. I always find them amusing, but to each their own,” Gilbert nodded. That was a good idea. No need to deal with Bash commenting anything there for everyone to see. He unblocked his phone.

_ gilbertblythe Day out. _

Turn off comments, tag  _ callmecordelia _ , publish. There. Broken silence after three and a half years of no new posts.

“When did you take that?” Anne asked him, surprised, a couple of seconds later.

“When you were meeting... Raymond, I think,” he commented.

“So nice,” she commented, still watching the picture in awe. She knew (always had) that Gilbert wasn’t the best at taking any sort of photo, but this was magical. It really transported her to the moment. Then she swiped, as there were more photos, and saw one of her back as she admired the falls, and the landscape from the cliff of the trail. She smiled, and Gilbert did as well as he saw her.

**Bash @Family (19:50): Anything new to add, Blythe? 🙃 😏 😉

**Fred (19:50): Blythe! Please please please tell me something finally happened! 🤩 😍 Ella and I are hanging here!

**Cole @Avongang (19:50): I want a video call now. I need to see what is happening in Hamilton ASAP. Anyone else?

**Josie @Avongang (19:50): Was thinking the exact same. Calling in two minutes.

“Gil?” Anne looked at him. He was frowning, as he clearly hadn’t thought things through. This day was too perfect to have the gang ask… more questions than necessary.

“We could always not answer the phone. I don’t want to deal with them,” he proposed half-heartedly. Anne snorted.

“Yes, because that would keep them shut,” she said, sarcasm full on her voice. He groaned, because she was right.

“Shit. I don’t want to deal with them,” he said. She made a sad half-smile and he knew then she had the same feelings, as if the gang calling would only burst the bubble they had somehow created along the day. Their phones started ringing simultaneously. “Let’s just answer in mine, ask about anything in PEI and keep it short?”

“Agree,” she said, declining the call on her phone and picking up the empty dishes to load the dishwasher as Gilbert answered. 

“Hey,” he greeted, trying no to sound as annoyed as he suddenly felt. Cole, Josie and Ruby were there, and soon Diana appeared. “Anne will be in a second, she’s just in the kitchen. So how are things over there?”

“What were you doing today?” Josie asked, directly.

“Are you finally together? Gilbert, those photos of Anne were beautiful!” Ruby commented, all heart eyes. “I’m so happy for the both of you!”

“Not together, sorry to disappoint. We’re just friends and went for a ride,” he said, his tone and expression guarded. Anne appeared next to him, keeping a careful distance.

“Hello all of you!” she said, happily.

“Anne, Gilbert here says you’re still not together? But what, are we supposed to believe him after he posts finally after years and it happens to be only pictures of you?” asked Josie. Anne nodded.

“Well, of course. He’s never been a fan of taking selfies, so there you have it,” she replied, nonplussed. Everyone frowned at the absurd answer. “So, what’s going on there? Any news?”

“News about...?” asked Ruby.

“Oh! I have to tell all of you. Marie is learning to count! Come here, sweetheart and show them!” Diana said and Anne thanked her silently as her friend effectively diverted the attention and they could hang not even ten minutes after, as everyone had things to do on a Thursday evening. Gilbert sighed.

“Thank god Diana was there,” was the only thing he said. Anne nodded and felt her phone buzz.

**Bosom friend (20:06): You owe me one. What’s going on there, truly?

**Anne S-C (20:07): Thanks for that. There’s… nothing really. Not yet. But I feel there are some… possibilities now.

**Bosom friend (20:07): Finally coming to terms with everything?

**Anne S-C (20:07): I think so. It’s getting harder by the day to deny how I feel. It’s surpassing my fears, and that’s saying something. 

**Bosom friend (20:07): Keep me posted! I have to put Marie to bed now. Love you!

**Anne S-C (20:08): Forever and a day 😘 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who names their plants as well? Any Raymonds and Gertrudes out there? 
> 
> But seriously.... what do you think of the outing? Anyone feeling some relief at Anne finally getting there? I mean, I do get if you're not happy about stepping back and not kissing Gilbert, but come on, the trucks weren't a nice backdrop ;) At least she's reached a decision, right?
> 
> We can't wait to hear what you think about the chapter! And we'll see you this Saturday. More things will move along, promise. It has a really fun scene there.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!
> 
> Sorry for the wait! We know you're anxious but Hikari hooked me on Dr. House. I'm addicted now and woke up super late. So there you have, a "late" update because of that. Now, things seem to be moving along... question is, how far along?
> 
> So! For the music: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6RdHb75TveUKJDQ9K7rc5O?si=JycruVfqT2WxVXoXIyVZiA

“So, where do you want this?” Gilbert asked the next day. The plants had all waited through the night next to the door, invading the whole space with their greenness and freshness, and now he was helping Anne reorganize his whole place.

He didn’t seem to have much say in the matter. And he didn’t care in the very least, to be honest. Watching his apartment transform from the place it had been, with his memories scattered all over and Mary’s efforts to make it comfortable, to a shared home with her (even if she was still insisting it was not the case) was filling his heart. Anne looked radiant. Even if she went to a flat of her own, or if she returned to PEI, she would do so knowing Gilbert’s place had at least a live plant to brighten the space. And she could always give him instructions and text him insistently about them.

“Don’t refer to Gertrude that way,” she scolded, receiving the pot of his hands and going to the table next to the window. “There she looks perfect, don’t you think?”

“Beautiful,” he said, not even knowing if he was referring to the plant or to Anne. She smiled. “So… Raymond?” he hoped he remembered the cactus name correctly.

“To the windowsill of the kitchen,” Anne instructed. She really had a plan for every single one of the plants, which surprised Gilbert.

“You have spent way too much time locked here. I hadn’t even noticed there was space in the windowsill to put anything,” he commented. She laughed.

“Well, almost the whole day for… Three and a half months?” she said. “I think we’re finished. Only Robert left. He will be by the bookcase, should we carry it together? Looks heavy,” she commented, referring to the huge monstera. He shook his head.

“No way you’re helping lift that, I’ll take it. Just tell me where,” he said, walking to the pot. She walked over and signalled a spot and he took the plant as she tried not to look at his forearms. She nodded, looking around, happy with the results. He went to the sofa and sat, and she followed him, sitting with her head on his shoulder. “So, any more plans for today?” he asked, as he adjusted his position so he could hug her and his arm wasn’t completely crushed.

“Not really… Maybe we can go for a walk at some point?” she proposed, enjoying just being close to him. She could stay like this forever. He nodded. “What are your hours again, this week?”

“Evenings, with a couple of days of morning and then evening. I should be back around one in the morning,” she groaned. “I’m sorry, Anne. I know shift work is tiresome, but I could look for a way to end it if it really bothers you. It’s just the way I’ve worked for the past few years because I lived alone, but I’m now in a place where I could ask for a fix schedule,” she made some other noise. “But hey, it’s not like you have to wait for me or anything. You just go about your day.”

“It’s fine. It’s really not my place to complain,” she said, but he could feel she was unhappy. Maybe he could really speak in the hospital, as Fred had suggested. They would probably agree. “I’ll try to wait for you.”

“I’d rather you kept with your normal sleep hours. You’ve been sleeping well and considering everything, that’s a win. I wouldn’t mess with it,” he objected. Anne looked at him, unhappy. He sighed. She hadn’t had any more nightmares lately and he wanted to keep it that way. Disrupting her sleeping patterns only augmented the chance of bad dreams.

“Ok…,” she finally said, still not convinced. It’s not like she was having dreamless nights, just manageable nightmares that didn’t warrant a trip to the kitchen and then didn’t wake him up. They stood like that for a while, in silence, just listening to the playlist they had been putting together the day before, Natalia Lafourcade singing  _ Para qué sufrir _ in the background. Gilbert caressing her arm, Anne reading the book she had stretched to reach.

“So how are the books coming along?”

“They are so great, you can’t even imagine,” Anne commented. “I’m about to finish this one, the last one I had left.”

“We can always get some more,” Gilbert commented.

“Don’t, Gilbert. I feel bad enough about you not letting me pay for anything and not being able to get a job,” she said.

“Nonsense. I earn enough to cover for this, and I only wish you to get a job if it’s one you’re going to enjoy. Not for anything else,” he said. She sighed.

“Not everyone gets to do that, you know? Eventually I have to pay for my things, it feels… just wrong staying here and not doing anything.”

“Only you are doing everything,” he said. “That’s how I see it, anyway. Look, Anne, I know you’re a fiercely independent woman, but… this thing that’s happening now, the whole of 2020, it’s not something anyone could have pictured. So don’t hold yourself to expectations you would in regular times. When the time comes for you to get the job you dream of, you absolutely will, and then you can pay for anything you want around here,” he insisted, the implication of her not leaving very clear.

“Gilbert, I can’t keep staying here forever…”

“Why not? We can always be roommates. There are apartments in this building that have two rooms. You get one, me the other, we’re set,” he proposed, even if he was thinking  _ We get one room, the other is a guest room, and then we have a red-haired kid. _ Anne laughed.

“You make it sound as if it was that easy,” she commented.

“Oh, but it is, Anne-girl,” he said softly. “There’s no need for you to go anywhere.”

“But PEI…”

“PEI is there and will always be,” he assured her.

Anne didn’t reply anything else. The truth was, she wasn’t gone by then because she was not so sure of doing it anymore. She had looked religiously at the travel restrictions daily for weeks. Then about once a week. Last time she had checked, she saw she could probably apply for an exception, writing a letter to the border officials explaining why and how she was relocating and all of her plans to isolate for the fourteen days they requested. But she had postponed writing the letter and filling all the forms, because she couldn’t stomach going so far away from Gilbert, even if he was to remain a friend. Which she wasn’t so sure about anymore. She just wanted him.

“Let me go fetch something,” Gilbert said after a while, suddenly remembering the guitar and how the day before he had wanted to at least see if he remembered anything. Anne sat straighter, leaving him free to stand up, and he went to the room to retrieve the battered black plastic case. Anne’s eyes brightened at the sight of it. “Deal is, I try and remember how to play, but you sing.”

“Gilbert… I hardly sing anymore,” she countered. And he raised his eyebrow. Did it look like he still played the guitar?

“Either you sing as well or I’m not even trying this,” he insisted. Because his only motivation to try and play something was to hear her. She looked conflicted. One of the joys of her life had been to see Gilbert play. But singing? The last time she sang when prompted was in a recital in grade 12, just before everything went downhill. From then on, she had only sung sometimes. While cooking. Or driving. Not for anyone to pay attention, just for her to enjoy. Alone.

“Ok,” she accepted finally. She wanted to see him play more than she cared about not singing. “What are we singing?”

“I have no idea,” he confessed, and they both laughed. “I haven’t played since highschool, so it better be something I already knew then? Maybe it does work like riding a bicycle and my fingers remember something, as you said?” Anne bit her lip, trying to think of something. Gilbert tuned the guitar, which after years stored was sounding awful, and then tapped his fingers to the guitar until something came into his mind. That old song. Anne had sung it for a recital and had made him learn it with her so she could practice for weeks before. “I know!  _ Coffee _ . Remember?”

“ _ Coffee _ ? From Tori Kelly? The one from…” the recital she had explicitly told Gilbert not to bother to show up to, even if he had helped her practice for so many times, because they had an argument about Winifred. One of the first ones. “But you didn’t even go…”

“I did. Only I stayed on the back so you wouldn’t notice. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he confessed, holding her hand. She swallowed.

“I don’t think I remember the lyrics,” she tried again. Because she wasn’t so sure about singing that. At the time, it had felt like a message to Gilbert. Some sort of indirect he never caught on.

“Anne? There’s google for that. I have to look up the chords anyway. And we played it so many times it’s bound to come easily,” he insisted. Because if he was correct about what he remembered of the lyrics, they conveyed everything he was feeling now. How much he missed her, even if he had never had her. How much he missed her, even when she was in front of him. She sighed.

“Ok. But you are to be held accountable for the outcome of this,” she said, grabbing her phone and looking for the lyrics as he did the same for the chords. He started a few times tentatively and googled something, before starting again. Anne watched him, how he looked so concentrated, how his hands moved with the same dexterity as when they were young. He finally caught the rhythm of the song.

“You’re supposed to sing, Anne,” he said chuckling, after playing up to where she was supposed to start a few times.

She blushed brightly. She had been so enraptured watching him she had forgotten about it. She cleared her throat and when he played again, she sang on cue. He forced himself to keep playing when all he wanted to do was stay still, listen to her and guard the moment forever in his memory. No longer needing to watch the chords (bicycle indeed) he was about to block his phone but thought of something and propped it against a book, setting it to record a video as she reread the lyrics, mumbling them. Mentally crossing his fingers for Anne not to find out now (she would probably have his head) he sat back again and started yet again, ignoring the pain in his fingertips. After  _ Coffee _ , they tried a couple more songs, each even closer to them than the previous one. Anne felt Gilbert’s eyes one her and swallowed, not sure of where this was headed. As much as she wanted him, this… was too intimate, somehow. In a good, but want-to-run-away way.

“I have a dough to mix,” she announced in a low voice, but didn’t move, her eyes trailing down to his mouth. Her starter was surely over its peak, as she had meant to make the dough for the week’s bread an hour or so ago.

As Gilbert watched her eyes he decided to test the waters again. After the day before, he was fairly sure she had a clearer mind. For the life of him, he wouldn’t kiss her, not yet, but oh. After that day he had gone running with Bear… he was so getting back. If she was indeed open to them getting more involved, that was. And he could see if she would stop him again. He’d rather have her say no to a kiss on the neck than to reject him when he tried to kiss her in earnest. He left the guitar carefully on the open case and looked at her, flexing his hands to get the numbness out. He was so out of practice.

The music still on her ears, Anne was quiet, watching Gilbert mesmerized. Finally, he extended a hand and intertwined his fingers with hers, giving them a soft squeeze. His other hand brushing hair off her face, caressing her cheek, before putting it carefully behind her ears. He leaned even closer and she actually thought he might kiss her then, so close his breath was. 

“Your voice really is the stuff dreams are made of, fairy Anne,” he whispered in her ear. He leaned back, let go of her hand, closed the case and stood up, grabbing his phone. Everything happened so quickly she didn’t even have time to react. “I might go for a run later,” he commented, stopping the recording and going to the room to change, not waiting for her to answer, smiling triumphantly. He knew she was frozen in place, blushed and flustered. Just what he wanted.

Anne blinked a few times. Bread. Yes. She stood up and looked around for her earplugs. Distraction. She needed distraction now. Gilbert was so going to be the death of her. She thought for a second and then decided to call Diana, who answered almost immediately.

“Hi there! You’re on speaker, we’re in the car,” her bosom friend answered. Then she heard Jerry and Marie’s greeting as well. That was good. The more the merrier. She walked to the kitchen and started measuring the bubbly starter, the flour, water and salt.

Gilbert stood in the threshold, unnoticed, already in shorts and t-shirt. He watched her as she mixed the dough with a wooden spoon before dumping it on the counter, as she asked someone about how the summer holidays were doing. He crossed his arms, watching as she stood, one foot slightly behind the other, as she started to knead, oblivious of him. She looked so good, her arms tense as she kneaded, her legs a counter balance on the floor. Hot as hell, as always, but the way she concentrated only added to it.

An idea came to his mind and he smiled wickedly, walking into the kitchen. She lifted her eyes and watched him, making a sign of how she was talking. He shrugged. All the better for what he had in mind, honestly. He opened a cabinet and took out his water bottle, filling it and adding a couple of ice cubes. They would melt fast enough outside, he knew. Leaving it on the counter, he walked over to where she was, standing behind her. She jumped, surprised, as she had forgotten about him already, concentrated as she was on the dough and Marie’s story about her violin class. 

Gilbert didn’t move, instead resting one of his hands on her waist. Anne inhaled sharply. What was he thinking? She asked a follow-up question, trying her best to ignore him, but then felt how, with his other hand, he pushed all of her hair to one side of her neck. That was… normal, right? Ignoring him again, but starting to feel a bit flustered, she did as best as she could to continue on the conversation. Good heavens, there were also Jerry and Diana there to talk. Gilbert didn’t stop, his touches to her becoming increasingly insistent questions.  _ Still denying your body and heart, Anne? _

Anne swallowed as she felt Gilbert trail a finger down her spine, and then up again. Oh god, what did he have in mind? What was this teasing? Where was this coming from? He smiled as he saw goosebumps appear on her arms. Good. She kept on kneading, as right now it was the only thing keeping her mind anchored to the moment and not to… was he kissing her on the nape? What on earth…?  _ Do you like this, Anne-girl? _

“Anne, you ok? You sound… weird,” asked Jerry. She swallowed again.

“All good, Jerry. So..” what were they even talking about? “Where are you headed?”

What they answered, she never knew as she got increasingly turned on by whatever Gilbert was doing, holding her exactly in that place, his hand on the waist pressing so firmly, the other one in her head. He chuckled softly, relishing on her shallow breaths, the raspy voice she had just talked with and how she felt in his hands.  _ Are you going to tell me to stop, Carrots?  _

Unsure if he should leave it now, Gilbert bit his lips. It seemed like such a waste to go now. This was not like the other day when he was fighting with himself to stay afloat. Either the mad exercise stunt or that horrible night incident had worked, as he felt very much in control of his body, even when he was enjoying this so much. And he really was going to run after this. He inhaled her scent, just because he felt it was the most exquisite odour in the world and sighed. He still wanted to be sure.  _ Have you finally figured it out, dearest? _

Gilbert smiled against her neck and couldn’t resist nibbling lightly on it, feeling how she tensed her jaw. He had to know what he was doing, she thought, as she was more turned on than ever before in her life, every nerve of her body alive and tingling, the ball of dough being squeezed as a way to relieve something, anything, because she no longer had the ability to coordinate any kneading, her body tense and alight with possibility. He trailed down on her neck, giving her open mouthed kisses down to her shoulder just to taste her a bit, sighing into her skin. Oh, she was as divine as he had imagined. She actually thought she might explode, or implode, or burst into flames right there and then. All she could do was contain a small whimper the Baynard family certainly shouldn’t hear. Gilbert either. And she certainly could never let out. That would not do. But Gilbert noticed her strain. He nibbled the lobe of her ear, just as the little cherry on top of all this teasing game.  _ Next time, will you allow me to kiss you, Anne, or will you keep up with this game? I can certainly carry on. _

Deciding this was enough, as he could tell she was barely breathing, an actual tiny whimper now hanging in the air, was as blushed as ever and he had gotten all the answers he needed from her reactions and her silence, he gave her a short, firmer squeeze on her waist. “You’re exquisite,” he whispered in her ear (the opposite to the one with the microphone, as he had some sense) and let her go. “I’m going for my run,” he said louder, grabbed his bottle and went, leaving her as a puddle, the dough long forgotten.

“Anne? Still there?” Diana asked on the line. “Was that Gilbert?”

Next morning, Gilbert took out the bread and Anne looked away. When he had come back after his run, she had chosen to ignore the whole episode (what was she supposed to say?  _ I had to go and relieve myself? _ ) and they had prepared dinner in good, flirty humour, the night relaxed as ever. And now he was cutting the bread she had been kneading.

“This bread looks yummy,” he commented, an iteration of the praise he always gave to whatever Anne cooked or baked, but today, as he saw her in the eyes as he said it, it gained a whole new meaning and she couldn’t help but flush furiously and turn to serve the coffee. Which he did on purpose, of course. He felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders since he had gone out to run, after only receiving acceptance, even if not in as many words.

Breakfast was quiet after that, but by no means uncomfortable. He enjoyed the bread, because indeed it was delicious, but what he enjoyed the most was just nibbling at it as he watched her in the eye. She kept a steady level of blush all through breakfast. He chuckled very quietly.

They went to read for a bit before he left, but she couldn’t help but steal glances at him, trying to decide if it was worth saying anything or if she was supposed to make a next move. Was the ball at her side? At his? Was there even a ball? Gilbert read for a bit before leaving for the hospital, a cute striped linen shirt and the same suspenders he had used a couple of days ago, humming happily as he went to the car.

His good humor couldn’t be dampened even by Fred’s inquisitiveness. His friend noticed instantaneously that something had happened over his days off, and wasn’t taking no for an answer. He just plain didn’t seem to believe nothing of consequence had happened with Anne. As is, he hadn’t finally kissed her. Or had sex. Or anything. And he would never tell him, the gossip he was, how much he enjoyed teasing her just to see her squirm and blush. So he stayed silent and watched the video he had taken the previous afternoon, lopsided as he had not taken much care as he had propped it over some book, hearing her sing over an earpod as they went for coffee at Timmies.

“Hey Freddie, any good video editing app you know?”

“Video editing? No idea. Ask the nurses, they are almost teens. Bound to know something more about apps than I do. What for?” he asked, holding open the door for him.

“Nothing much. Just something I shot yesterday but it’s all… lopsided, for lack of a better word?” he explained. “Look,” he showed him the clip he had already saved apart from the rest, about fifteen seconds long. That he had been able to do. And he was going to publish it, so there really was no harm in Fred looking at it. It wasn’t like the part where he actually went to tease her. All saved on camera. 

“Gilbert Blythe and you keep telling nothing happened?” Fred insisted, after watching the clip. Gilbert smiled innocently. “If I didn’t know you better, I would say there’s something actually naughty behind that smile. But you’re too much of a saint for anything,” Gilbert couldn’t help but burst out laughing. If only he knew. “By the way, I never knew you could actually play that guitar you kept dragging around every single apartment we lived in as students.”

“Of course I play. I just never had the time,” he explained. Fred raised an eyebrow. “Or the will, ok, the will. It just brought too many memories I wasn’t quite ready to face, but I didn’t want to get rid of it.”

“So she sings,” Fred commented as they walked back. Gilbert nodded. “She has the prettiest voice.”

“I know. I used to tell her all the time. But she only wanted to study, study and study, her eyes fixed on becoming a teacher,” he answered. “She dropped it too. The singing. Almost didn’t convince her yesterday, had to blackmail her.”

“How so?”

“She wanted me to play. I offered a trade.”

“About the video. Have you tried just editing in the photo app?” Gilbert shook his head and Fred showed him. “There. Now publish the thing and quit that silly grin off your face. It looks like you’re actually getting softer and that’s about impossible, Blythe.”

Anne stayed back and went to the trail to walk. Tried to entertain herself. Ate dinner by herself for the first time in weeks and felt lonely, odd and unsettled. Debated on whether to text Gilbert or not, and decided she didn’t want to appear either pushy or needy, because she was a grown woman and would not depend on… him being home to feel good. It just felt strange, after the closeness of his free days. 

_ gilbertblythe tagged your on a post. _

What? She opened the notification and was surprised by a small clip of her singing. He was playing the guitar in the background, only a part of him visible. When had he recorded this? Had he recorded the whole time they were playing? Did they actually sound like that?

**Anne S-C (16:50): Seriously? You’re sneaking videos now? 😒

**Gil (16:51): Deny you secretly love it 😉

**Anne S-C (16:51): Ugh!

**Gil (16:52): 😘 I know you do. Love it. 

**Gil (16:52): As you do with other things you’ll never say 🤭 

**Gil (16:52): I’ll see you at breakfast.

He was such a tease! When had he become like that? She decided just to ignore him. Those kinds of comments didn’t deserve to be acknowledged. But she smiled (and blushed) nonetheless as she remembered the previous day. She reopened the post. They did sound good, as good as she remembered. Like he had this innate way of following her voice with the notes from the guitar. She scrolled down to the comments and stifled a laugh and rolled her eyes at the same time.

_ @Bashfromtrini: About time you both picked your hobbies again! What about getting together? Will that ever? _

_ @Rubycakes: Awwwww you both are the cutest 💞 💞 💞  _

_ @Beardad: So you did know how to play that thing? And you managed to hide the secret ten straight years? Way to go, @callmecordelia! _

_ @Janethelawyer: Will you both get the fuck together? My god, you’re even more stubborn than my clients 🙄 _

_ @Steff.clayton: Blythe! Who’s the beauty there? Had it well hidden! _

_ @Jerryofgreengables: Now if you’d actually replace the coffee in the song by yourselves, we would get somewhere. _

_ @cole.mackensieofficial: Groupie number one for the Blythe couple 💚 Even if they deny being a couple. _

_ @Iamroyal: Fighting for number one with you. _

She blocked her phone. This made no sense. She continued with her day. At least the teen nurses didn’t follow his account, because then he’d be flooded with comments. How was he dealing with his phone buzzing the whole time? Did he have it in silence or what?

Eventually it got late enough that she had stopped pretending he would magically appear for dinner and prepared something for herself, not used to eating alone anymore. Which was strange, considering she had lived by herself for the most part of the past six years and had thoroughly enjoyed it. But in the time since they started talking again he hadn’t had evening shifts, and it was her first night alone since they were on speaking terms.

Playing with her food, she thought about what to do next. She could read a bit. Or watch a movie. Anne looked up to the sofa bed in front of her, still very much a sofa for the evening. She could open it so he could arrive and not have to do it by himself at midnight. Putting the plate in the washer and after cleaning the kitchen, she went to the living room and organized it for when Gilbert arrived home. She looked at the ready made bed and remembered that night of the fort as her phone buzzed.

**Cole (21:06): Any new developments? Is that the cutest video or what? ❤ How are things doing after that episode with the suspenders? After that “day out” as Gilbert so succinctly put it? Which I still don’t believe, you know? I want to know EVERYTHING in case you haven’t noticed 🤩

**Anne S-C (21:07): I think… well?

**Cole (21:07): Think? Or know?

**Anne S-C (21:07): It’s… weird. But comfortable. But good, I think?

Her phone started buzzing and she picked it up.

“Hey there,” she greeted Cole.

“How is it weird but comfortable and good? I’m sorry I called you. I have to wait for the clay to dry and have some time, if you don’t mind chatting. I just need to finish this tonight or else I would be home by now.”

“No, no. All good. Gilbert is working. I just can’t explain it. After that night… did I tell you we slept together? Like the act of sleeping. Weeks ago, when I made a fort.”

“Do tell. You didn’t give me all the details, Nan.”

“Well. We did. Sleep. It wasn’t like we planned it, we were just finishing a movie, and of course I could have gotten up and gone to my room and left him sleeping there by himself, but… he proposed I stay. And that night was so perfect, it just… Added to it. And then weeks have gone by, and…” she thought if she should give Cole any details of everything that had happened over the past few weeks. It’s not like he didn’t know most of them, he did. But she didn’t want to explain just yet how she had been coming to terms with everything the past few days. “It was so good, Cole. Like the best night sleep I’ve had in forever. And then… I thought we would maybe repeat it? But it just has not happened and I’m not about to ask him to sleep with me just so I can rest better.”

“Why not? He would probably say yes. Heck, knowing Gilbert, he probably is dreaming about it,” Cole answered, his voice with a somewhat amused tone.

“I… I wouldn’t know how to ask. I mean. I feel like… I’m letting him in. Like you suggested. I’m taking it one step at a time, and I feel like I’m finally getting to the point where I could be comfortable with him. As in accepting there could be something more than friendship, I’m… open to it, now. But from flirting to asking him if I can go sleep with him because I rest better, there’s a long distance.”

“What you both need is to have sex and do it already. Seriously Anne. I feel the sexual tension all the way over here. It is so evident on our weekly calls that by now it is a recurrent joke on Friday drinks here in Avo, and that call from yesterday was just ridiculous, how you were evidently trying to keep distance but were drawn to each other.”

“Cole!” she shut him.

“You know it’s true. You’re not even denying it. I think Charlie, Josie and Tillie have a bet on when you’re kissing first and whether you’ll be able to stop at a kiss or not. It’s not like someone would interrupt you.”

“Cole, I’m warning you…” Anne insisted, annoyed.

“Ok. So for  _ sleeping _ … Seriously, Anne. Just get on his bed. Don’t ask. Just go there, snuggle and sleep. He won’t turn you back. For what I know, Gilbert won’t ever deny you anything.”

“I just snuggle?” maybe she could do that. He didn’t seem annoyed when they woke up the other morning and she was still hugging him.

“Yup. Snuggle.” Cole answered, absent minded.

“He’s not even here, you know? Evening shift. Shitty doctor stuff.”

“Even easier, Nan. Get into his bed. He won’t even ask, he’ll be the one snuggling,” he mumbled, “Do you think a darker tone conveys better…?”

“Send me pictures!” She took his question as the opportunity to change the subject.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Gilbert just had to be sure. You know, with Anne saying no that other day and everything? Better to double check, he's studious and cautious like that.  
> Also, about the music... remember the music? Spotify only has one version of Coffee. Which is not the one we had in mind for Anne and Gilbert to sing. So go watch it now! It's right here: https://youtu.be/cnK0X_1OLTU  
> Annnnnd we'll see you on Wednesday, when hopefully, maybe they'll be on the same page. After all, Gilbert double checked. Or triple checked?


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone!
> 
> So I did my homework and left this ready on Tuesday night just so I could binge-watch House after, and still publish early-ish. We really hope you enjoy this chapter! It comes with music, of course, and it plays... an important role at some point. Would recommend that you listened before or during your reading. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6Ku1TLHaiYGYz8bKpfoRUS?si=2nl_1KpoQD2DwFE6brhZyQ
> 
> Now, because everything isn't peaches and roses (sadly), we're starting as of today with a new added segment of the notes, after greetings and music: warnings and triggers. Special guest for today: implied abusive relationships. Please take it into account before you judge. And please, as well, take a hard look at the series as well about Anne's mental health. It will be needed.
> 
> Now, that wasn't to scare you. It's a beautiful chapter, we promise :) Read along!

When Gilbert arrived later that night, still chuckling at the comments on the post he had been reading while going up the stairs, he found that Anne had followed his advice and was sound asleep. Just not where he had thought she would be: she had prepared the sofa bed like he did every night, and had curled there, with her pillow, leaving him the one he used every night. He stood there, in the darkness, looking at the arrangement. Trying to decide if he was understanding the message. It seemed pretty straight forward.

Walking to his bedroom, Gilbert saw the bed, still made, just missing a pillow. Well, it did seem to be some sort of invitation. So what, all his teasing was resulting in her sleeping with him? But if she wanted to sleep with him, why not do it in his bed? It was way more comfortable. Unless she didn’t actually want to talk about it. She had a knack for ignoring important discussions. He took off his shirt and undershirt and stripped down to his boxers, putting everything directly on the washer. Anne was so fast asleep he wasn’t even worried about walking half-naked. And she had invaded his space (if the living room could even be called that). She had left his sweatpants on the chair next to the sofa and he grabbed them, obediently. No t-shirt, he noticed with a chuckle. Oh, Anne. He walked in boxers to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

She was curled on one side, her back against the back of the sofa, leaving him more than enough space. She seemed deep asleep. He sat on the edge, still scrolling through the comments, but not really reading them as he thought of what this new arrangement meant. He bit his lip, his free hand shooting for his nape. He had thought his free days had changed the winds somehow, but this? This was taking a huge leap of faith for her. He had been looking for answers the day before as he teased her mercilessly, and he had thought he had found them. This, however, was an underlined, italic, and bold answer. Next time the opportunity presented itself, he would no longer doubt.

Finally, he laid on his back, looking at the shadows of the ceiling. He dearly hoped tonight was not a… one night kind of thing. He had slept so good on the fort with her (considering they weren’t even on a mattress) he knew that tonight would be even better. And he feared getting used to her presence for her to leave again. He sighed.

“Hi,” she whispered sleepily. He turned his head and saw her, eyes slightly open.

“Hi,” he answered.

“I hope this is alright,” she said. He nodded.

“If you want it, it is,” he said. She nodded, closing her eyes. “Just maybe the bed, next time? My mattress is nicer than this,” he teased lightly. She chuckled sleepily. “Go back to sleep, Anne-girl.” She seemed to do so quickly, her breathing calm and long, and Gilbert stayed there, looking at the ceiling. He was tired, but he couldn’t get his mind to calm down. Something was changing. Or, if he was imagining things, he would have to talk with Fred about getting some medication against delusions. 

When he woke up next morning he was alone in the bed. Anne didn’t mention anything nor did he, as if they had been sleeping together forever. They went about their day and when he came back from work, she was again in the sofa bed. When he went to the hospital the next morning, Fred intercepted him.

“Oh no, Blythe. No more avoiding from you,” he said. “I already checked and you have some free time so we are getting coffee and you’re not getting out of it.”

“I’m not avoiding you, Freddie,” replied Gilbert, because he honestly wasn’t.

“Oh, I know you’re not. You’re just avoiding my questions and I’m not having it. I want the full story,” they were getting to Tim Hortons then and they asked for their usual drinks. “So, spill. I want to know. What are you so giddy about? And don’t you dare say nothing because that’s laughable, Blythe. And you know I love you and get happy for you. I just want to celebrate with you whatever is happening with Anne. And tease you, of course,” Fred said as they went to the bench. Gilbert shook his head, undecided on how much to tell his friend. That teasing when she was kneading? Definitely not. That was his. “Blythe!”

“Ok, ok, Freddie. So yes, you win. There’s… Honestly, nothing like you’re thinking has happened. There’s just been this… shift on how we behave around each other. I’m pretty sure she now is open to something more. More so than before, I even think she would be not only open to it, but maybe even looking for it? But we haven’t even kissed, so keep your hopes low.”

“What makes you think she’s looking for it, then? And why are your ears so red suddenly? Blythe, spill!”

“There's… You know how I told you I left her my bed when she came to my apartment and I’ve been staying on the sofa?” 

“Yes. Makes sense. At least until you finally get a place with two proper bedrooms.”

“Ok. So I’ve been on evening shifts this week. Which I have to look for a way to end, you honestly think I could have a regular schedule now if I asked for it?”

“Positive. Heard about it and everything, go to Shephard so he can talk Yang up. Continue,” Fred answered quickly. Gilbert made a mental note.

“Ok, so I’ve been getting home around one or two in the morning. And I told her not to wait for me, because I know she would otherwise and you know messing with sleeping patterns does shit for nightmares, right?”

“Wait, nightmares?”

“She’s always had bad nightmares about her time in foster care and the orphanage. She’s so stubborn she’s never wanted to do anything about them other than endure them, which doesn’t make any sense to me. I know she’s had some over the past couple of months but I think she’s been doing better.”

“She does know she can get help?”

“Of course. Only she doesn’t believe that she needs it because she is horribly stubborn and then I end up trying to calm her down. I don’t know who she called all these years,” he commented, thinking about it for the first time.

“Tell her to call me? I understand if she doesn’t want to go to therapy with me, too close to everything, but I can direct her somewhere,” Gilbert nodded. “Continue?”

“Ok, so I told her not to wait. So I fully expected her to be asleep when I got home. And she was. Only on the sofa.”

“On the sofa where you sleep?” Fred asked, wide-eyed.

“On the sofa where I sleep. So I went and checked her bed and it’s all done, just missing her pillow. I thought it was on purpose, so I get into the sofa as well- she even left my pajamas there, and then she asks if it’s ok for her to sleep there.”

“Are you kidding?”

“I’m not.”

“No wonder you’re giddy. So you’re telling me, you’ve been sleeping with her and haven’t kissed her yet? Why on earth, Blythe?”

“No chance yet?” Gilbert said, because he had no better answer by that point. Fred laughed. “What?”

“You are spending about six to eight hours snuggled with her, and then you live with her, and you tell me there’s not been a chance? You want to kiss her or not?” Fred said. Gilbert blinked. When he said it like that… “Make your own opportunities, Blythe. Don’t wait for them. I’m telling you, she won’t say no this time.”

Fred’s words didn’t leave his mind for the remainder of the day. Or the afternoon. As he opened the door later that night, he was actually expecting her in the sofa bed, so it was no longer a surprise. He went to brush his teeth and changed into the sweatpants after taking a slow shower, thinking.

When he got in bed, Anne turned and opened her eyes as the other nights. She always woke for a minute or two and then went back to sleep with the peace of knowing Gilbert had arrived at the apartment, he had let her sleep with him, and everything was going to be alright. Only this time, as her eyes found his, she saw a different glimmer in them. The same exhaustion from the other nights, but accompanied by something else.

“How was the hospital?” she asked, sleepily. Gilbert looked at her. She usually didn’t start such a conversation when he went into bed. More a g’night and keep on sleeping.

“Good. Nothing out of the ordinary,” he answered, smiling softly. She nodded, and yawned. “Your day?”

“Same as always. Finished a book. Wrote some more. Edited a bit,” she said, stretching. She didn’t know quite why, she wasn’t so sure of going back to sleep just yet. There was something unsettling about his expression tonight. “So, nothing else happened?”

“Nothing much. Talked some with Fred. Says hi, by the way. I… might have told him how you have nightmares sometimes,” he commented, looking at the ceiling.

“Gilbert!” she scolded, more awake. _Not his story to tell!_ She turned and gave him her back, somewhat annoyed.

“I’m sorry, Anne. I’m just worried about you,” he said, and turned to hug her. She huffed, knowing he had had good intentions about it but still a bit mad. “He commented that he can direct you to someone who can help.”

“I don’t need someone to help with that,” Anne sentenced. Because as long as she had him, she didn’t. She was so sure of that, especially when he was wrapping her with his strong arms around her waist. Nothing could ever happen to her as long as he was there. And she had managed splendidly all her life, even if with some ups and downs. Jerry had been there, too. Gilbert was seeing her hair, the two messy braids she now only wore to sleep, and sighed.

“Maybe we can discuss that in the morning?” he proposed, talking softly to her nape. It was definitely not the best subject before sleeping.

Anne shivered a bit at his warm breath and he felt it under his arms, taking it as a cue. Fred was right about something. An opportunity didn’t have to appear if he could as well create it. Trailing a hand from where it was hugging her on the waist, up her arm, he brushed off the braid from her shoulder and her nape, revealing her freckles, her smooth skin and the thin strap of the camisole. She usually didn’t sleep with hoodies, leaving them in a lump next to the bed. Her back thus exposed, he smiled, trailing soft, small kisses from the back of her ear down her shoulder, sliding the strap slowly down her arm.

Not expecting his touch, she inhaled sharply. Because this was not like the other day in the kitchen, unless he planned to leave her there alone and go sleep on his bed. This was not teasing, she knew at the bottom of her stomach, warming with butterflies. What Gilbert was doing now, he was doing in full conscience that it was in earnest, with all the consequences that implied. She swallowed, wondering for a split second if she was indeed ready for this. But she was. Oh, she _so_ was. And as her mind aligned itself with her heart, her body reacted with a tiny whimper that was like the best sound of the world to Gilbert’s ears. It escaped before she could even think of containing it.

Trailing back up to her ear, his kisses were no longer the soft, innocent ones he had given her on the way down. Her breathing was a bit stronger as he caressed her down her arm, all the way down to her waist, his mouth working its way with open mouthed kisses and nibbling, feeling his own heart beat wildly. Gilbert knew as certain as the sun would come out in the morning that what he had dreamt for so many years was imminent.

Anne really tried to control her breath and the way her heart was beating wildly. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, with herself, not used to being touched like this, as if she was precious and valuable. But she couldn’t well handle it, and allowed herself to follow her body’s cues, taking a deep, quiet, shaky breath, feeling Gilbert smile as he kissed her behind the ear.

“I want to see your face, Anne-girl,” he whispered in her ear in a raspy voice, and Anne noticed how affected he was, too. “Please turn,” he pleaded, nudging her with his hands, because there was nothing he wanted more right now than to see her eyes. She obliged, knowing as she did so her life was on the verge of changing as she was going to kiss him, whether he was planning on it or not. She could not hold it any longer and she didn’t know any longer why she should have to, if she wanted to kiss him. She was biting her lip, making that resolution, as her eyes connected with his.

Neither would ever know who kissed whom, as they seemed to meet in the middle with the same urgent need to convey their emotion, love and want to the other. Gilbert had thought about his first kiss with Anne in any number of situations along the years. Hundreds of scenarios, each more absurd than the next as the probability for it to happen neared zero. But he had never imagined it to be in bed, clad in pajamas, in the middle of the night, as he came back from work.

It was perfect.

More than perfect, it was _real_. He brought her closer to him, his hand tangling with the hair at the nape of her neck, the one on her cheek going to her lower back. Her arms around his neck, pushing him to her. She deepened the kiss, almost demanding him entrance, which he readily gave her as he held her even closer. Anne relished, not thinking coherently but all the same wondering how she could have said before she had kissed anyone if the feeling was in no way comparable to this.

“I love you so much, Carrots,” he mumbled hoarsely. He couldn’t help himself when they parted their lips for a second, the nickname he loved so much escaping his lips without a second thought. Anne looked at him, but only saw honesty and some deep need, deep lust in his eyes that made her catch her breath and realised that she did, too, with every cell in her body.

Anne kissed him again in response and felt his free hand roam down her waist slowly, down her bottom and then circle her thigh. Her hips jumped with surprise and he smiled into the kiss with some unshared knowledge. Gilbert waited for a moment, kissing her back, his hand going teasingly up and down her bare leg (bless those shorts, he thought for the first time), to see if she would push back. When she didn’t, he nudged it with his next caress to wrap his own leg, turning on his back and effectively taking Anne with him and having her half straddle, half lay on top of him. She ended the kiss, blinking in surprise. Never before had she been on top. 

“Is this ok?” she asked, worried, as the last time she had tried something of the sort it hadn’t ended well. Gilbert frowned for a moment, confused as to what she was asking. Was what ok? Kissing on the bed when the two of them wanted? Her being on top of him when he clearly had invited her to do so? Being with him?

“Do you want it?” he asked softly, some terror inside he hoped didn’t show up. Anne swallowed. She did. All of it. Being in that position, where she could start to feel so much, finally kissing him… she wanted all of it and them some. She nodded, blushing. “Then it is perfect, love,” Gilbert answered, making a mental note to go back to this some other time and kissing her again. He felt her adjust to be more comfortable and in doing so, he felt a shiver cross his spine as she inadvertently grinded a bit against his growing erection.

She stood up a little, resting her hands on his shoulders and looked at him in the eyes. He couldn’t help but smile, so happy he felt. Anne studied him for a second, watching how his cheeks were, for once, slightly blushed. How his pulse was evident on his neck and his chest. He blinked once, twice, his eyes never leaving hers, wondering what was going on through her mind just as she made a decision.

Anne went down to kiss his neck, to the area she knew for a fact had always been sensitive. Even if it was to tickles, there was bound to... Small nibbles. A bite here. Some sucking there. As Gilbert couldn’t contain a small moan (and he was trying), she knew she was on to something. _So this is what it feels like, to be so in control?_ was her thought as she felt Gilbert’s breathing become more ragged and how he was beginning to bulge more down. His mind, in fact, was getting cloudy with everything she was doing, and he needed to do something now.

Grabbing her face between both his hands, he kissed her deeply, insistently, hungrily, until he managed to elicit a moan from her and some reaction from her hips. He then let go of her face, still kissing her, tangling one hand in her glorious hair, the other roaming down to her bottom, bringing her closer to him as she whimpered the tiniest bit again. He shifted his hips up slightly as she moved the next time.

“Gil?” she asked, ending the kiss and seeking reassurance. Anne knew she was not a virgin by any means. She hadn’t been in so long. Yet, this made her feel as if she was- and they weren’t even having sex, for gods sake. Gilbert saw confusion in her eyes. The insecurity. He knew then it was nothing about him, but about something else that made his heart hurt. What had Anne gone through? What could he say to...

“You are perfect, Anne,” he tried. She swallowed. “Nothing you do will make you any less so,” he insisted, but she still looked doubtful “Whatever you want, go ahead. You’re free here with me,” he assured her, before kissing her again.

Anne kissed him and tentatively moved against him, intuitively knowing it would feel good. They ended the kiss and she burrowed her face in his neck, moving slowly. Good heavens. This was what everyone talked about, she could feel it. Maybe it was real, that you could indeed come with someone as they did in the movies. Gilbert moaned, because he could not help it, the way she grinded against him so perfectly timed. He nibbled and sucked a spot on her neck, and Anne contained a whimper as well, not stopping her movements. Gilbert wasn’t complaining, so she mustn't be doing something particularly bad and oh how his mouth felt in her neck was a delicious torment.

“That’s it, Carrots,” he whispered, his voice coarse. “Enjoy yourself,” he insisted, feeling her breathing get increasingly ragged. He went back to her neck, thinking probably this was going to leave a mark but oh, what if it did? Anne felt like she was so close. She recognized the feeling, having managed so many times on her own. But this? She had never come with anyone before and suddenly it seemed scary, even if this was Gilbert, of all the people in the world. If anyone was bound to make her feel good about this, and not self conscious or even selfish, it was him.

But, Anne realized as she seemed to near that point where she would definitely crumble down, she was not ready for this yet. She wanted him. She so, so wanted him. But she didn’t know how to let go completely around him yet. She’d never done so before around anyone. What if she pushed him away, if he didn’t like it? And she could have him and not come, she had done so plenty of times before. It’s how it worked for her, usually. Even if Diana said it was not normal. So she stopped. She stayed on top of him, but rested her chest on his, her cheek in the crook of his neck. Her heart wild, her breathing fast.

Gilbert could sense something was not completely right, but knew better than to push it now, so he hugged her, caressing her softly on the back up and down. Soothingly. Even if he felt how pulsing he was down there, he could manage to ride this off. She seemed unsettled and an unsettled Anne would not do. What had happened? She had seemed so, so close. They stayed like that for some minutes, until she scrambled down to lay next to him, hugging his bare chest.

“Are you ok?” he finally asked, not able to contain his worry any longer.

“Perfect,” she said, smiling at him. She hadn’t felt this good in years. And he could tell she was, almost. 

“I love you, Anne-girl,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. She sighed. “Go to sleep, it’s very late now.”

When Gilbert woke up the next morning, he was alone again (they did have different schedules and she had always been an early riser), but something smelled nice. He got up, stretching a bit, and went to the kitchen to find Anne making banana pancakes, completely absorbed in what she was doing. The just-woken look, combined with the camisole and the shorts and her messy braids (he would have never thought they were still a recurring style for her, after all these years) was so appealing to him, he just stood and looked at her. She was so sexy it made no sense, especially when she was unaware of someone looking at her. He noticed a small love bite in her neck and bit his lips, trying to contain a smile. He had been there.

He went back to the living room and took his phone to put on some music to reflect his ridiculously good mood. Ever since he had gone during the summers to volunteer in the Caribbean and Latin America, he had a penchant for that music and he always thought it was the happiest ever. So he put some on, deciding that, why not? Maybe she would dance with him. He walked over to where she was cooking.

“Morning,” he said to her ear, hugging her from behind and kissing her neck. To be able to do this, he could die a happy man, now. Could every morning of the rest of his life be just like this, please?

“You’re awake! I’m finishing breakfast. Since you have more time in the mornings these days I thought we might have something different than regular weekday fare?” she said, turning in the embrace and looking at him bright eyed. He chuckled. Only she would think about cooking at a time like this.

“Anything you want will be perfect,” he assured her, leaning down to give her a soft kiss. She smiled and kissed him back. She couldn’t wrap her head around what was happening and cooking always grounded her, with all its repetitive and mundane tasks. This morning seemed so out of a dream she couldn’t quite believe it yet.

“Well, banana pancakes on the menu today,” she said, motioning the stove with the spatula, turning again to flip the one she had on the pan. He laughed, not letting go of her. She seemed to be in good humor as well. “I like that music. I never know what it is, but I like it. Maybe share the playlist with me some time?”

“Sure thing,” he accepted, watching over her shoulder how she tended to the pancakes. She took the last two pancakes from the pan and put them on the stack she was building on a plate, the island already set with maple syrup and cut out fruit. “Come here, we can eat later,” he said. She frowned, but left the spatula on the counter and turned off the stove before following him to the open space between the living room and the kitchen island.

“What?”

“What do you say you dance this one with me?” he proposed, smiling. She turned red and shook her head, uncomfortable.

“I don’t dance, Gil. There are things that never change. _This_ is one of them,” she explained, starting to go back to the pancakes. He offered his hands. Even if she was terrible, which he doubted, he just wanted to enjoy the music with her.

“I’ll guide you. And if you hate it, we stop,” she looked at his hands and then at his eyes. _You’re going to be the death of me, Gilbert Blythe._ But she accepted the offer, anyway. Because she was a fool, and she was in good humour, and hey, they had made out yesterday so dancing should be easy. Or something. He smiled brightly and brought her closer. What did it even mean that they had made out?

The song was one he had heard countless times since the album came out some years before and had always wanted to dance to. And that today was more fitting than anything else could be. The voice of Natalia Lafourcade as she sang to _Tú sí sabes quererme_ accompanied them as they swayed across the relatively small space. For all that she said she didn’t dance, Anne moved fluidly, understood his guidance as if it was a second nature and soon they were dancing. Twirling her, she laughed giddily and Gilbert smiled, feeling that everything was right in this moment. He hummed along the song, following in his mind the lyrics he loved so much. Couldn’t she maybe stay forever in his house? Couldn’t they do this every morning? He felt her eyes on his and looked at her, and it was like he was doing it for the first time, all wonder in her eyes, something he didn’t know how to explain. All too soon, the song ended and he reluctantly let go of her, feeling a void he didn’t know he had.

“Thank you,” he smiled, giving her a small peck. She smiled in return, a small flush in her cheeks. “One more?” he asked, as the next song started.

“Breakfast first. Then we can see more about dancing. But pancakes are getting cold and they are good, I promise,” she said. It’s not that Anne was opposed to dance more, especially after how Gilbert had guided her, but she had made some really nice pancakes and wanted to eat them while still warm. Gilbert served the coffee as she put the plate on the table. “I never knew you could dance like that,” she commented after a while.

“I learnt in Uni,” he said. “I used to go on volunteer trips, mostly with Fred, because I never wanted to go to Avonlea in the summer, and I picked up a trick or two.” He didn’t care to elaborate, a weird silence between them as Anne understood the reason for his travels. It was an unspoken fact that he avoided summers and she avoided winters, as if they were some sort of divorced couple sharing custody of a town, at least until she moved to Vancouver and her visits became more sporadic. She ate some more, distracting herself. “But hey, I could teach you.”

“Yeah, right. Keep dreaming, Gil,” she said, chuckling. “What you witnessed was sheer beginners luck.”

Gilbert laughed. If that’s the worst she could dance… He didn’t push the idea, though, and soon they were just cleaning the kitchen. He washed the bowls and all the things Anne had been using while humming to the music, debating if he should try to talk about their sleeping arrangements or about what had happened the night before or if she would clam up as she did with every subject that had anything to do with them together. He decided it was worth it. At least the bed thing, and he would take it from there. If they were going to sleep together at least they deserved the bed that was readily available in his bedroom. 

“So… I was thinking,” he began tentatively. She looked at him, “I know that the living room has the tv, but my bedroom has a very nice bed, I’m sure you’ve noticed,” she blushed a little, feeling where this conversation was headed. “Wouldn’t you prefer we slept there, rather than on the couch? If you really want to share a bed with me, that is,” he continued, trying to sound relaxed but actually praying he was not messing up and had understood her quiet gesture from the past several nights. She kept quiet, biting her lip, cleaning the stove. 

“Your mattress _is_ good,” she acknowledged after a moment, but didn’t elaborate. _Carrots, please acknowledge the situation?_ was all that was in Gilbert’s mind.

“Anne… I’d like to understand what you want. Please,” he said, as he dried his hands and looked at her. He was fine sleeping alone on the sofa. But he felt she wanted him to sleep with her. He was fairly sure by then she at the very least wanted to give their relationship a try. He felt compelled towards her. He felt an attraction and chemistry he had tried to emulate all through university with other women to no avail. 

“I sleep better when you’re around,” she confessed, blushing furiously. More deeply, almost no dreams, and she hadn’t had a nightmare in the whole week, which was some kind of personal record. He chuckled and she looked at him. Clearly he had no idea of what she had meant.

“I do too. So, can we just do it on the bed? I think it will be better for both our backs,” he proposed. She nodded, quiet, and he noticed her mind was somewhere else. Not a very pleasant place, if her eyes were any indication, which they usually were. He frowned. “Anne-girl… what is it?”

“Nothing, Gil,” she smiled, but he could see there was something there. And then there was… her insecurity the night before, for lack of a better word, and suddenly he was worried all over again, feeling a pit on his stomach.. As he had been as a teen, when he realized Anne never told the whole truth about her past experiences.

“Please tell me,” Gilbert said, walking towards her and grabbing her hands. He looked her in the eyes, “please tell me, Anne-girl. Are you having nightmares again?” he saw her doubt for just a second.

“No, Gilbert, I’m not having nightmares again,” she answered, hoping it sounded honest. Which it was, technically. If you never stopped doing something, could you say you were doing it again? He looked at her, raising an eyebrow, skeptic. She looked to the floor and felt a blush creeping in, and hated herself for being so fucking transparent around him. He let go of her hand and caressed her cheek, tilting her head upwards, to look at him.

“I know you, Anne. And I know you’re not telling me everything,” he started, tentatively. She swallowed. “But do you know you can trust me with anything?” She nodded. Silence hung in between them.

“It’s just they’ve never left,” she finally whispered, and he hugged her.

“I’m with you, now, love,” he whispered in her hair. “We will figure it out, Carrots. Together. You’ll see,” he promised.

Anne sighed into his chest, unsure if he was going to be able to keep his promise, but willing to try. And anyway, this day was happy. It was supposed to be happy. Today she was not going to think about nightmares or bad things or anything because last night they had kissed and even if she had no idea of what it meant or what it implied, it had fulfilled one of her dearest wishes since she had realized how handsome and kind and just plain… Gilbert he was. And what’s more: he wasn’t ignoring her this morning and seemed to be ever so affectionate. So it was surreal, because men never were like this, but she was going to enjoy it while it lasted. Beginning now.

So, in the middle of his strong arms, Anne returned the embrace and relaxed in it, inhaling his scent as she smiled against his bare chest. He had not put a t-shirt yet, probably waiting until he showered. Gilbert felt the change in her stance, and sighed. He would not push this today. But he would at some point. This thing Anne had- whatever it was- was not healthy. She needed to see someone about it, about her time in the orphanage, and that was the end of the story. 

But now Anne was kissing him in his collarbone, nibbling it teasingly, and Gilbert knew that, whether he wanted it or not, the conversation was over. Because he couldn’t possibly bring on any sort of heavy subject while all that was on his mind was her. He let go of her for a brief second before holding her head in his hands, tangling his fingers in the base of both her braids and kissing her deeply. God, he loved these braids and had dreamt of doing exactly this since he had seen them first. About half a lifetime ago.

Anne smiled into the kiss. This, this she wanted now, because kissing felt good, and kissing him was plain glorious, and while they kissed Gilbert could not ask any questions about her nightmare’s frequency or whatever heavy subject he had in his mind today. She just wanted to enjoy him for whatever long this was going to be. He let go for a second, watching her in the eyes. This morning, she was still on with this? It had not been something to leave only at night? 

“Anne-girl, you can’t...” she kissed him, and he tried to complete what he was saying in between their lips meeting, “just avoid… difficult stuff ” She started kissing his neck again, making him lose coherency, to see if he would shut up already. “You can’t very well do that and…expect… nothing,” he said rasply.

Searching her mouth, he kissed her again, more determined this time, making some steps until she was flush against the island they had just cleared up. His hands caressed her back, feeling her shiver under his fingers, and went down all the way to her ass, grabbing it and then pushing it up. She was now sitting there, on the island, and she didn’t lose a second, wrapping her legs around his waist and bringing him closer to her as he gave her open mouthed kisses along her neck, his hands going teasingly light on either side of her torso, on top of her camisole, always stopping just below her breasts.

Gilbert was going painstakingly low, making her whimper internally, but he had a bad feeling about whatever experience she’d had before him and he wouldn’t touch her any more than he had already without asking first for consent. That was just the way this was going to be, after what he had felt the night before in her. And eventually, he hoped she would open up to him about whatever had happened. 

Plus, he was loving her squirming little noises more than he would ever admit and now that he finally had permission to touch her, some of her, he wanted to trace his mouth in every single available space, so he could always remember each freckle and she would never forget his mouth. He allowed his hands to go just an inch higher, his thumbs just coming closer to the lower part of her breasts, and she gasped.

“Is this ok, Anne?” he asked, leaning back only to be able to see her eyes. She nodded, trying to regain her breath but unable to do so. She let go of his neck and held onto the counter with both hands for dear life. Words had left her, because if they hadn’t she would certainly find a way to tell him this was not only ok, but she needed this, and needed his touch, and _please don’t stop there Gilbert because it’s killing me_. But she couldn’t voice it. She couldn’t appear needy and last night she had surely gone beyond what was acceptable.

His eyes still on hers, he let his hands go higher the next time, his thumbs effectively brushing her breasts as the question hung in between them. He held them just there, still, until she gave the tiniest nod. She tried taking in a steadying breath. He could tell how much she wanted this, but he needed her to voice it. Or at the very least, let him know she agreed with his touch. Going higher the next time, Anne nodded quicker, understanding how he would not move until she gave any indication and for the life of her she needed him so much, to touch all of her, to...

When his thumbs finally brushed her nipples over the fabric of the camisole, she couldn’t help the deep moan that formed on her throat nor the movement of her hips against him, but tried to hold it in quickly as she realized what was happening. A half estrangled moan. His eyes still on hers, dark but soft. This was unnerving. Anne leaned forward to kiss him and Gilbert smiled, obliging, but kept it short. 

He wanted to go all over her and not just her mouth, and now that his hands finally seemed to have a larger access, he started nibbling her collarbone and she couldn’t stop the whimper his touch created, even when she was trying so hard to stay silent. Her arms went back around his neck, she tried to breathe but was keenly aware of every cell in her body and couldn’t help but squirm.

Gilbert trailed his kisses down her chest, just until the natural boundary of the camisole. She didn’t do anything to take it off, so he didn’t either. For all he wanted to see her, to admire every inch of her, he would not take this initiative yet. Anne felt his raspy stub in the skin of her chest, his mouth and his lips kissing her, and wondered what they would feel like directly on her breast. Only to think of it gave her a thrill. She caressed the nape of his neck with the tips of her nails and heard him catch his breath.

“That’s good, Anne-girl,” he encouraged her, speaking close to her ear and proceeding to taste it lightly, managing to get a whisper of a stifled moan from her. She felt him smile against her skin. If only he knew what he was doing to her. She tried to bring him closer, feeling bolder than she had ever felt in her life and sensing his erection through his sweatpants and her thin pajama shorts. She tried moving against it to relieve some of the need she felt. The answer of his hips was instinctual, meeting her in the middle, and she bit her lips to suppress a new moan. 

Leaving her breasts alone, Gilbert trailed his hands down along her back until they found her bottom, and he pushed it a bit forward, closer to him, following the movement she had done a few seconds before. He held her there, so close to him and yet so far, so many layers in between them. She squirmed, not even knowing what she needed to get some release of the state Gilbert had brought her to. She knew what to do by herself, how to move her fingers to reach release. But here? How was it supposed to happen? He had to know. He seemed so overly confident about all he was doing and he wouldn’t harm her. Or make fun. He went to her collarbone, oblivious of her unsaid question, or her doubt, and licked it slowly. Her hips went forward again.

“Please, Gil,” Anne forced herself to say. What was she asking? She had no idea. He leaned back to look at her, worried about finding fear, or anything that hinted at her not feeling as good as he wanted. But in her eyes he only found frustration, need, confusion, as if this was somehow new to her. It couldn’t be. He knew by then she had been with more guys- he had heard Diana, Cole and even Jerry rant about them with all sorts of unamiable opinions. How much they could have messed up with her?

“Do you trust me?” he asked. She nodded. “Then don’t fight whatever it is you need, darling girl, and just do what you need, follow my lead,” he tried, before kissing her deeply again. She corresponded hungrily and when she felt again the urge to move, she welcomed it and tentatively tried grinding against Gilbert, feeling him push her against him. Oh, this felt so good, she would never have imagined. If she could do it faster, maybe she would… 

Gilbert went back to her neck, doing his best to keep himself reigned and in control of his body. Which was as hard a task as anything he had done in his life, feeling Anne move just so against him. Oh well. She was doing it now. Why should he restrain himself so much?, he thought before corresponding her movements with his own. They were finally finding a rhythm and he was considering they might actually come- how long ago since he had done this as a teen, he would never answer if prompted- when Anne stopped suddenly.

“What’s that?” she asked, breathing quickly. Then he heard it.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, not being able to contain the swear word only to the confines of his mind. She looked at him. “It’s my alarm, I had it in case I fell asleep. I have an important meeting in half an hour to check into a research program for a new stem cell treatment and… Shit, I wish I could just cancel,” he said, resting his forehead in Anne’s, a string of courses he would not say aloud in his mind. She felt some relief, as she didn’t know how this would have ended otherwise.

“You still work until late?” she asked a moment later, not putting any more distance in between them. She didn’t want to let go, not really, and spoke with her lips almost touching his. Neither made any move. His eyes were closed, but he hadn’t moved. The obnoxious alarm kept sounding in the background.

“Yes. Same time. I have this schedule for a couple of weeks still. I just go in early for this… fuck, I should have schedulled for the afternoon,” he insisted, his voice tense with frustration. He took air and sighed deeply. Anne kissed him.

“Go. I’ll be here. But go shower, quickly, so you have a clear mind,” she said. Gilbert didn’t move. “Gilbert! Move, now! And turn that damn thing off!” she insisted, louder. He almost jumped. Kissing her a last time, he went directly to the bathroom, grabbing his phone on the way. Cold water, definitely.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... was it worth waiting 18 chapters for a kiss? Do you have a favorite moment? Anyone wants to send Fred a thank-you note just for stating the obvious and shaking Gilbert?
> 
> Here's a good challenge: can you guess the first kiss song?
> 
> We'll see you on Saturday!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone!
> 
> So... pretty much everyone thought waiting until chapter 19 for a kiss was worthy, someone wanted to send Fred a box of chocolates (much appreciated) and some guessed the song. In case you're still wondering, it's Technicolor Beat. There were as well a couple of... constant themes in the comments, for lack of a better word. First: please don't die! We really value you all as readers and would miss you a lot! Plus, we're just getting started on this part, and you're already dying? Hold on there!
> 
> The second one is a bit more serious, and it relates directly with our new section on the notes. It had to do with whatever happened to Anne. I won't go into detail- it's something that's kind of part of the story. But remember warnings and triggers? So, for today, the warning is: mention of abusive relationships. If this might be triggering for you, please take care of yourself and stop reading if necessary. It is important.
> 
> Now, music! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0iyyumnH3Qhkfc5m0yFupp?si=aQNjp5jbTxaS8DxhFboavg

The meeting went well. As good as Gilbert could ever hope it to go, anyway. Treatment looked promising and they had a couple of candidates so there was that. Looking at the time, he saw he still had about half an hour before his shift officially began. 

**Gilbert Blythe (10:34): Coffee?

**Fred (10:36): Betcha. See you at Timmies. Order double double? Iced. I’ll be there in ten. 

“You look almost relaxed, Blythe, and I would have never guessed for that to be possible,” Fred commented as he sat beside him. Gilbert turned to look at him, his smile so big he couldn't quite contain it. Even if there was something nagging him, he couldn’t not be happy about the recent turn of events.

“Must be because I finally did it,” he commented. He wasn’t going to keep it from Fred. If he tried, his friend would know instantly he was hiding something from him and he preferred to decide how much to share and when. Fred looked at him, wide-eyed.

“You did? Gilbert Blythe made an advance?” Fred said, half-joking, half-serious, but his smile betrayed him: it was evident he was ecstatic for him.

“Don’t be so cheeky. I did, yes. Never had the motivation before, doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to be able to, ever,” he tried to defend himself. Fred laughed.

“So! Give me all the details! Everything! When was it? How was it? What happened? Have you talked about it so you don’t go mad with your incessant overthinking?” he asked, and Gilbert chuckled. Count on Fred to act as giddy as he felt.

“Let’s see… It was… last night, when I got home and somehow she was not as sound asleep as the other nights,” Gilbert said, deciding there and then he was not going to share everything with Fred. He absolutely did not need every detail, so he chose his words carefully. “We kissed… It was… Pretty much perfect, and no, we haven’t talked much. Had a meeting here early today, so I had to run.” 

Fred looked at him, as if he was examining him, and Gilbert already knew he was not buying the story. But he really didn’t think talking to him on a hunch he had, and about Anne’s intimacy, was the best idea ever. So he held the gaze, convinced he could win the battle. Or try his very best.

“What’s really going on, Blythe?” damn Fred and his antlers of perceptiveness. Gilbert drank some coffee, not answering. Fred furrowed. “Blythe, you are transparent. Always been. It’s not like anything you tell me I repeat- not even to Ella. So feel free to share, in confidence,” and by how serious he suddenly sounded, Gilbert sighed. “I know something happened, because you have this look and you were picking your words as meticulously as you do with treatment plans. So I know there’s something that is not adding up to you. If there wasn’t, you would be just a puddle there telling me all about her freckles,” Gilbert’s hand shot to his nape, to scratch it as he felt so observed. “And you are doing that, now,” Fred said, slapping his hand down and Gilbert bit his lips.

“Right. But this is not going out, ok?”

“Who are you taking me for? If anything I keep more stories in my head without ever repeating any than you could ever imagine,” Fred said, looking at him. Few times Gilbert had seen him as serious. He sighed again, bit his lips for a second and thought of what to say, how to say it.

“So… She’s holding herself back. Not something. I can tell this is herself battling with herself, because she is about to… do something, and then goes back to a safe place. Or stops altogether,” he started, feeling his ears go red. Fred had the sense not to ask for more details than that. “And I am afraid this… thing she is holding about has something to do with any past experiences she might have.”

“What do you mean, past experiences? Was she...” he had seen serious Fred before, but his look was starting to freak Gilbert out.

“No! Not that I know of. I know she’s had some crappy boyfriends over the years, Cole and Diana would tell me that much, remember? When we were in Toronto and…” Fred nodded and he cut himself, wanting actually to get it out. “And the orphanage where I know for a fact she was badly bullied, almost on the verge of being abused, but she never gave any specific detail,” he said. He looked at the floor. This talk made him uncomfortable. He felt it wasn’t really his place to talk about it, but he was worried about her and frustrated so maybe it was, to some extent? And Fred was the psychiatrist, not him. Maybe he could give an idea that would help Anne.

“And you told me she keeps having nightmares?” Gilbert nodded. That she had decided to venture sleeping with him because it made it better only made him wonder how many times she had been waking up over the nights that he didn’t know of. And the whole ten years in which he knew intuitively she wouldn’t call anyone in the middle of the night as she had called him before. “Shit, Blythe. Is there anything else? I really don’t want to intrude, but… kids that had her experiences, or what little you’re telling anyway, often need therapy to overcome traumas, and you’ve told me she’s never gone…”

“I don’t know if she’s gone over the past few years. She recoiled when I suggested last time,” he sighed.

“You didn’t answer. Is there anything else?” Gilbert remembered her bad nightmare a couple of weeks back, how she had almost had a full-on panic attack.

“She… almost had a panic attack after a nightmare. She used to have them before, sometimes,” Gilbert sighed, his eyebrows crunched in his forehead as Fred looked at him. He did remember those anguished moments in highschool. “Also… flashbacks, I think? But she’s not had any these past few months, so I don’t know if she managed to overcome them? As I’m telling you, I don’t know if she went to therapy over the past few years. I just know she closed the subject when I proposed it”.

“Shit, man. This… I can’t know if she went, either, but if she’s having that kind of bad nightmares she hasn’t solved everything, that I can tell you. She needs help or it will just keep coming back to her and it is not healthy. It can potentially lead to more disorders,” Gilbert swallowed, because he knew that as well but had been wanting to think everything would work out. That he had decided on oncology didn’t mean he did not have an idea of other areas of medicine. “Try and talk to her again? When she’s relaxed, maybe take her out for a walk or something. Not somewhere she can relate to something she did, because then she most probably will do an association. Maybe suggest again that she goes to talk with someone? And take it slow with her for now.”

“I will. Thanks for the advice. And believe me, slow has been the norm…”

“How so?” Gilbert made a vague gesture and Fred looked at him, confused.

“Whenever I went out with… any girl, I just followed their lead. It was easy because they were very forthcoming, most of the time,” he explained, his ears going back to feeling hot. Fred chuckled, probably remembering Gilbert when he still pretended to date. “With Anne… I’m just asking explicitly for consent for almost anything since I noticed there was something that… wasn’t quite right. And trying to reassure her. And… just generally, going slower than what I would think was slow. It’s… It hurts, Fred. Just to think of the reason I’m doing it. I want to track these guys down,” his voice was low, almost a whisper, but he knew Fred had listened when he felt his hand on his back.

“Important thing is that she has support now. And she’s not alone on the other side of the country. So be there for her, ok?” Gilbert nodded, his jaw still clenched. “We should get back. I do have a patient at 11:00 and that’s when your shift starts.”

“Oh, I asked for a meeting with management to look into this regular hours thing. I have it later today, so cross your fingers? We could share a schedule.”

“Finally! I will. Here’s for your nine to five, dr. Blythe,” Fred toasted with his coffee. Gilbert chuckled, standing up and stretching, leaving his tension behind to officially start his workday.

“Marie! Look!” Anne said to the screen where Diana’s daughter was. A couple of days had passed and she had decided to call her bosom friend to show the latest changes to Gilbert’s apartment. She had the back camera on and was introducing the girl to all the new plants. “So that is Gertrude…”

“So, Anne, now that you are redecorating the place, that means you decided to stay there?” Diana asked, when Marie evidently was not interested and left the phone to go play outside.

“No. It means his place was dead,” Anne explained. She was still undecided between getting a place in Hamilton or going back to PEI. The island called her, with its friendly and welcoming forests, with her friends that were more than family. Even if Gilbert was here. Could he not want to move there? Go back home? So he could be kind of close by… Diana rolled her eyes in response and Anne ignored her. “So, have you decided on your updo for Jane’s wedding? I wish I could be there to do your hair but this stupid pandemic doesn’t allow me to do anything.”

“Anne, you’re hardly suffering,” Jerry said, getting into the camera as well. 

“Were you there? You don’t work, have anywhere else to be?”

“I do work. It’s Saturday, dummy. And I only have to be here. To annoy you,” he said as he winked. Anne rolled her eyes.

“Jerry, go, there’s nothing for you in this conversation. Go on,” Anne said, the same way she used to dismiss him when they were younger. Jerry was about to reply when Diana interrupted them.

“Enough you two. Jerry, love, go and see Marie doesn’t go into the mud? There’s no point in teasing. And Anne, honestly, you are not thirteen. About the updo, I was thinking of this one… let me just send it, ok?” Anne received a picture and nodded. “It’s too complex?”

“No, it should be easy. Some braids and a lot of bobby pins,” she mumbled as she studied. “I think you can manage.”

“I also wish you could attend, you know? With Gilbert and all…” and blushed at the implication, but still said.

“There’s not a Gilbert and all, and you know that.”

“You are too daft to be true. And that, I am telling you as your bosom friend. Have some trust, ok? It will be good, I can promise you that.”

“How so, good?”

“As in you could finally have a healthy relationship?” Jerry said, coming back in with Marie in his arms, mud up to her hair. “I’m going to give her a bath, chérie. But seriously, sis, you could use some love. Real one. And Blythe apparently can do so,” a comment that only made Anne blush more, but he just went away, no more words. So Jerry. Diana looked at her.

“It’s true, Anne, you know?”

“Can we go back to your hair? So, remember the dutch braids I showed you last summer?” Diana pursed her lips, but nodded anyway “It starts with that, but then you curl your hair on the back and pin it, and frame it with the braids.”

“I’m lost, now,” Diana said, frowning. For all she was about the most elegant person she knew, Anne also was conscious of how, for Diana, going to any formal event implied paying someone to do her hair, makeup and everything else.

“We’ll do it together and I can record it so you can have it for reference. Then on her wedding day you can call me again if you need to, ok? You’ll do good, you’ll see.”

“It’s still annoying not being able to go to a salon.”

“Di, no one’s going to one. So relax. It will be an intimate thing, not a fashion show, and if you don’t show your parents the pictures everything will be fine.” They talked some more, the subject of anything with Gilbert and her finally forgotten, and eventually they hung up. Anne rested on the sofa, looking at the ceiling, Jerry’s words on her mind. He always had a knack for getting under her skin and she hated him for it. Also loved him.

But right now? Hated him. She’d had healthy relationships. As healthy as any other, she was sure. She got up and went to the kitchen to get water for the plants, as well as some scissors to cut the dead leaves. If she had coerced Gilbert into spending some $500 in plants she might as well keep them alive. And they were such dears.

“See, Robert? Daniel was good. He never yelled or anything,” she commented to the monstera as she moved the earth around it a little bit. “He had not really a bad temper, he was just prone to getting his mind known. And he had strong opinions.” So did she, so where was the harm? “We just had different views on life. Meaning I was still hung up on Gilbert, but hey? You’re not repeating that, are you? What, Gertrude? I know you don’t have those problems. You are plants, and so lucky for it,” Anne continued, turning to the next plant and taking a couple of brownish leaves. “And don’t even begin telling me about how sex it’s supposed to hurt or not to hurt or anything, I’m not having that conversation. Most of you can be as asexual as it gets, but us humans have to deal with this, so there you have. No going out of it,” she mumbled, in a bad mood. She walked back to the kitchen and threw the leaves as she thought, and then came back to the pots she had been talking to, arranged in a corner close to the window.

“You know what? Maybe it even isn’t that bad. He makes it seem like it could be enjoyable. Like it wouldn’t hurt that much and he wouldn’t mind if I came next to him. Not like Lincoln, you know when he said… nevermind. The way Gilbert touches me… You know how you go all limp when your earth has been very dry and then you finally get water and you feel it going all through your capillaries? Like you feel in every part of your leaves how life is coming back? That’s how Gilbert’s touch makes me feel, Petunia. So different from Daniel’s. And Lincoln. Oh gosh, don’t get me started on Lincoln. So yes, maybe… maybe with him it could be different? Even my body reacts differently, acting on his own accord. And he hasn’t said a single word complaining about that, he kind of looks like he enjoys how much I seem to lose control around him. So, maybe these girls do have a point in that group and it’s not everything as bad?” She sat in front of them, holding her knees close to her chest. Now that she had started talking, she couldn’t seem to stop her mind, wondering, imagining the possibilities.

“I mean, I know women are also supposed to come when they have sex, but it just has never happened to me… and I know for a fact guys dont like that, Lincoln was pretty insistent on that when I was close that one time. Diana says he was a git… But he was such a dear with me. Until he met Kim and left me,” she reminisced. She remembered his dark eyes, dark hair, his aura of mystery and intellect that had been so alluring to her at 19. She looked at the cactus, so soft, so silvery. “But hey, good things never last, eh? And I can manage on my own. Especially when I’m already… turned on after Gilbert teases me. It had never been easier than the other day, what was he thinking, honestly… But how are you supposed to let go in front of someone else? Are you supposed to do so? I guess that’s the real quandary of all this, don’t you think, Raymond?”

The next few days seemed to go in a flurry. On one of them, Gilbert came to the apartment with the exciting news that his shift work would be officially finished when they came back from Montreal. He was stuck with evening shifts with no much rest day until Canada Day, yes. So it was going to be a harsh couple of weeks. But it was only a tradeoff, the best the managers and Gilbert had been able to come to. It was either that or moving him starting regular hours in October and that would not do. In exchange, they had given him a couple more days, so they would have a free day or two after coming back to Hamilton, before he went back to work. Then he would join Fred and the other doctors with regular schedules. 

Anne was excited at the prospect, because that meant having him in the evening and not going to bed alone. She’d had a taste now of how it was sleeping with him. Two times they had fallen asleep together: the time from that bad nightmare, and then when she prepared the fort. That in particular had been her best night of rest in recent memory. No dreams at all, good or bad. These past few nights, she’d been by herself the whole evening, something she hated to admit was no longer used to. Only six months back this had been her reality, one she was used to and actually enjoyed, but now she was at a loss of how to have dinner and prepare to bed by herself, used to the teasing and constant chat with Gilbert.

She even wondered how that routine they’d had the past few weeks as friends would evolve now that they were no longer only friends (what were they, anyway?). Would he kiss her to sleep? Would she? Would they get together in bed, or would he stay up to read or watch something for a while as he usually did? She always saw there was light underneath her door when she slept alone in his bedroom. Now that they’d moved to the bed, letting the sofa bed rest after months of constant use and putting away the extra blanket and pillows, he had come every night to curl around her, snuggling in her nape until next morning, when she got up almost at sunrise.

The mornings had been filled with coffee, breakfast, hot kisses and lots of snuggling in the bed and on the sofa. Gilbert kept on his purpose of taking it slow with her, but kissed every available space in her arms, her shoulders, her neck and the upper part of her chest. He had not ventured any further yet, only once one hand venturing a little bit under her camisole. Anne was slowly getting more comfortable with his openness and eagerness to make her feel good, considering it might be actually real and it would not backfire, her letting go.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk this morning,” Gilbert proposed one day. “There is this nice coffee shop in Durand. We can grab a coffee, go to the other side of the trail, the end you haven’t been to yet, and I can drop you here before going to my shift,” he detailed. He fully intended to take her out of her usual surroundings to have the talk Fred had suggested. He had not touched the subject of her nightmares or even her insecurities regarding intimacy in the very least over the past couple of weeks, just trying to care for her as best as he could. But he felt they could not avoid it forever, so he was taking her somewhere she felt comfortable at, like a forest, but wasn’t her usual space, so she wouldn’t associate it with heavy talks.

“Sure, why not?” she said. He had been working for nine straight days and he looked tired, but he had dismissed it when she had commented on it, referring to this as nothing compared to his residency. Getting a soy latte for her, a regular one for him, they set to the entrance to the trail that was closest. They had been walking for a bit, hand in hand, when Gilbert mustered the courage to speak.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” he started. Anne looked at him, concerned. Was he kicking her out? She knew she had been a long time at his place, but he looked happy about it. Maybe something else? Was she being too forward? Enjoying herself too much? Made too much noise? Had she overstepped? “I haven’t been able to shake off what you said the other day. About your nightmares,” he explained. Anne frowned. Oh. Not that again. She could deal with enjoying herself too much, she’d done it before, but she didn’t want to talk about nightmares. Gilbert saw her, her hand clenching over the cardboard cup. “Anne-girl… please look at me?”

He stopped and turned to be in front of her. She sighed, but looked up.

“What, Gilbert?”

“I want you to see someone that can help you. It’s not healthy to have these kinds of nightmares and it can get worse,” he said.

“Oh, and you would know,” was her sarcastic retort, because he could not possibly know of what he was talking about. She motioned to keep walking, but Gilbert held her.

“Anne, please. I haven’t experienced what you’ve been through. I know that. I wish I had, so I had better tools to help you. But at the very least I can support you on it. I am sure talking with someone can help you get better over this. If the orphanage is still haunting you, I don’t know what else can be. I feel you’re not telling me everything and I am here to listen, to help,” he insisted, caressing the hand he was holding, hating the coffee cup in the other one.

“I don’t need therapy. I manage well enough on my own. There are people who need it more than I do,” she insisted. “Can we just keep walking?” He nodded, deciding not to go down that path anymore for now. Maybe if he tried down another one? They walked in silence for a few minutes. She was recalling the last nightmare she had, two nights ago. She had managed to handle it before it got out of hand. When he arrived, she pretended to be up reading and had not said anything about her bad dream. She could tell there was something else on his mind, but wasn’t sure about asking. He seemed overly inquisitive today. As if on cue, he talked.

“I have also noticed… Please, forgive me if I’m being too forward. It just troubles me,” he started, but realized he had no idea of how to ask without being blunt. She looked at him, frowning, already defensive. He looked down the trail, thinking it was good to keep walking. It gave space to think, at the very least. “How were the boyfriends you've had before me?”

“Before you? You’re my boyfriend?” He blinked. He hadn’t even thought about how his question sounded, too worried about how to ask about her previous sex life.

“Well, I’d like to be. If you’d like that, of course,” he said, smiling softly at her and squeezing her hand a bit. She looked at their joined hands and felt her stomach fill with butterflies for the first time in years. A thrill she had thought extinguished. Gilbert Blythe, her boyfriend? She nodded.

“I’d like that,” they walked a bit more. She considered his question. “I only ever had two. Lincoln and Daniel. One I met at uni. The other in Vancouver. Neither worked out. I was… We just wanted different things. Saw life through a different lense,” she commented. They weren’t you, mainly. It was harder to be with them than what it was worth, also.

“How were they?” he asked, her answer as vague as if she was talking about cars. No. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert talking about cars was bound to give more details. And she didn’t know a single thing about any car.

“They were fine, I guess. Both had very defined opinions about many things. Were… a bit particular, but I guess all men are?”

“What do you mean, particular?” Gilbert asked, feeling there might be something there. She blushed instantly and he knew he was on the right track. She didn’t elaborate. “You do know you can trust me, right?”

“Well, yes. But I’m not asking you… about what your old girlfriends liked, am I?”

“No. But I can tell you, if you wish. I don’t care. They’re not you and I don’t think if you ever meet them any of you will get into a detailed discussion of what we did in the bedroom,” he explained. Maybe if he shared something she would, too? A sort of exchange? Anne looked at him, curious. Maybe if he told her what he used to do, she would get a better idea of his expectations? “What, want to know?” she blushed more and he chuckled. “It’s alright, Anne. So… what do you want to know?”

Her mind was suddenly full with questions, but some were so… descriptive, she was in no way asking them. He saw her blush even deeper and squeezed her hand again, winking at her playfully, trying to keep the mood light. They walked some more.

“So… you kissed them like you kiss me?” that was as good as anything. A starting point, at the very least. Test the waters. He chuckled.

“No. The way I kiss you… I’ve never done it before, Anne-girl. I have never felt for anyone what I feel about you, and I think that translates into the kisses. But… we kissed a lot, I suppose. I did kiss them in similar places, I guess,” he commented, recalling. Anne looked at him, and then back again down the trail. He continued, as she said nothing else. “They seemed to enjoy it and if there’s anything I care about regarding intimacy and sex, is that my partner enjoys it fully. So maybe yes up to some point, but not really because I was not as invested?”

“What do you mean, your partner enjoys it fully? I don’t get it… I…” she cut herself shut. She would not repeat what Lincoln had told her so many times because saying it aloud to Gilbert seemed wrong and twisted and would simply not do. He looked at her, blinking. Confused. What did that question mean? He saw something cloud her eyes for a second and felt cold inside. This was not good. He had to answer something. Quick. 

“Well… when I’ve been with someone, it is never only about me. That would be… selfish? I don’t know the word. But it’s something important for me, that she enjoys it. Makes it more pleasurable for me as well, you know what I mean?” She didn’t, actually, but she was not saying that. An echo of Lincoln’s words sounded in her head and she tried to stifle it. “Like, for instance… you know when I’ve kissed you and you let out these tiny whimpers?”

“Oh Gilbert I’m so sorry about that,” she blurted. Because she hadn’t contained them as well as she thought and he had noticed. He turned to look at her, stunned. This conversation was leaving him speechless, and for all the wrong reasons.

“Don’t be sorry, Anne. Why on earth would you be sorry? I just love them, they tell me I’m doing something good and arouse me even more. Why would you be sorry?” he asked, before being able to stop himself, completely astounded by her apology. She was even redder than before and swallowed, looking at her cup. 

“You mean… you don’t actually mind them?” She asked, a tiny voice. 

“I’m telling you, I love them. I love getting out reactions and whimpers and everything out of you,” he said, hoping she didn’t think he was mad. She didn’t say anything for a while, looking ahead, thinking. He looked at her, worried. “Please never silence or limit yourself?”

“Women are to be felt but not heard...,” Anne mumbled to herself. If they had been anywhere with any more ambiance noise, he would probably have missed it. But they were not and the only noise was the occasional song of a bird. Or the wind in between the leaves.

“What was that, Anne?” he asked anyway, because he could not have heard correctly. She shook her head quickly and he felt livid. Who had told her that? The words were perturbing in general, but coming out of her mouth they made even less sense. Who could have said this to her and how to make her believe it? It wasn’t like her, to reach that conclusion by herself. She was so… vivacious, and independent before. Fighting for equality all the time. From that to what she was saying was an abysm so big he couldn’t even fathom it.

“So your girlfriends… they… enjoyed themselves?” Gilbert looked at her. He had actually forgotten the subject. But that she asked him that was just adding more fuel to the anger he felt already burning in him. They changed the course and put the cups in a trashcan.

“Unless they lied, yes, I think so. Probably sometimes more than others, but in general, I think they did,” he explained succinctly.

“And you liked that?” Anne asked, examining the tips of her hair as they kept walking, clearly trying to avoid his eyes.

“I think we’ve established that, yes,” he said as tenderly as he could, squeezing her hand lightly. As furious as he felt right now, she was the last person on earth who should receive any of his anger. She bit her lip, thinking. This was new information. 

“So…” she began, but then stayed quiet. If he enjoyed that, could it be that he actually would not mind if she came? It would be true that she could express everything that formed in her?

“So…? Anne, I don’t mind talking about it. It’s sex. It’s normal. It happens when people love each other or are attracted to each other and decide to go for it in a consensual manner,” he felt the need to explain so much because it didn’t seem to be evident for her. Somehow. She put the hair behind her ear, more as something to do with her hand than because it was bothering her.

“So… they came? When having sex? Before?” Her voice was very quiet and her eyes were firmly on the trail’s floor. That they were on the ground was good right now. Eyes there meant no eyes to see his clenched jaw. Or his furrowed brow.

“Well… yes. And no. It really depended. Sometimes before. Sometimes during the actual penetrative sex, I guess. Sometimes more than once. Sometimes after. Sometimes they didn’t manage even if we tried. Same as I didn’t all the time, either. It’s just real life, sometimes you have too much on your mind or can’t find the way… but they did, yes.” He didn’t ask if she did, because the implication of her question was clear. He looked at her, her furrowed brow, as if she was processing that what he said could be real.

If they had an actual orgasm while having sex how were they not thinking about how much it was hurting? How was that possible? If he was as… attentive as he said, he would have noticed if they were in pain, right? And would probably tell her. He had always been honest like that. Gilbert always told the bad stuff even if it hurt, because it was better than any lie. 

“And it didn’t hurt them?” Anne finally asked, curiosity getting the best of her. 

“What didn’t hurt them?” She motioned something abstract. “Anne, I’m seriously not following here, I’m sorry. What could hurt them about sex?” He asked, honestly concerned, hoping Fred's question from the past week hadn’t been more on point than what he thought at the moment.

“Well, sex, of course!” She answered as if it was obvious. He looked at her, as blank an expression as he could muster because if anything he was actually thinking went to his face, she would certainly not react well. Were those bastards animals or what? “As in, yes, they were aroused, I get it they were before… the actual… and apparently they managed to reach an orgasm… sometimes…” she stammered. She seemed skeptical about the whole climax thing, he could tell, but he couldn’t have imagined everything back then. And she wasn’t there. “But it didn’t hurt them, the actual…?”

“Why would it?” She had been blushed for ten minutes straight, but she did some more, if that was possible. 

“Well, when the… have you ever had sex, Gilbert?” she asked, a bit exasperated in her utter discomfort. Either he hadn’t or he was mocking her or she was missing some key information in this whole business. 

“I have, and I don’t seem to follow you. If the woman is aroused it should not hurt her unless she has an infection, vaginismus, dyspareunia or a hormonal imbalance. Or is going through menopause, which certainly was not the case, and some more obscure conditions that are really not usual,” he explained, and she could tell this was his clinical view of the matter. So probably true. “So, because we took our time or were already aroused by some other reason… no. It didn’t hurt them. It would have worried me, if it had. Would have meant there was something amiss.” The only thing he wanted to ask in that moment was if they had forced themselves on her, because that was what it seemed like.

Anne nodded, frowning at the information. She seemed to have a thousand questions more but didn’t dare to ask. She felt like she didn’t know anything by this point. Either that or Gilbert was tricking her. But what was more plausible? Lincoln and Daniel treating her like shit, as Diana and Cole and Jerry and Roy had always insisted, or Gilbert making up tales?

“So they never said it hurt? Or that it was too rough?” She asked, only to confirm. He was beyond angry now, and trying his best to not show anything. He turned so they could head back and he walked in silence for a moment, reigning his temper. 

“No, Anne. They didn’t complain about it hurting. If something did, we adjusted accordingly. As for the roughness, it was entirely a matter of preference, timing and mood, but it was certainly not one-sided and more likely asked for when it happened.”

“So do you like it?”

“I like what?”

“Sex. To be rough.” He went quiet to think for a minute. Well, he did. Sometimes. Not all the time. But whenever the mood was right… it could be great. And he was not going to lie to her. 

“Not as a general rule, Anne. I like to enjoy it, mainly. I like the person I’m with to enjoy it even more. If some days that means taking things slow and gentle, then that’s the way to go. If other days either has some need that can only be satisfied with something more rough, then that may be the way that day, if we both agree. I don’t impose. Think of it as teamwork.”

“Teamwork?” she repeated. She remembered how he had referred to both of them as a team. Years and years ago. So foreign a concept compared to whatever she’d had with Lincoln and Daniel.

“Yes. Teamwork,” he insisted, because he knew she would get the hint. 

“I like the sound of that”, she commented. He lifted their hands and kissed hers. 

“I do, too. Teamwork and trust, Carrots,” he added. She bit her lip. If anyone had asked her about the person she trusted the most in the world, his name would have been first all through her teen years. The years after? Cole, without any doubt. Cole and Diana. And now? She would dare say he was gaining his way upwards again. It was more a matter of trusting herself. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I do. I don’t trust myself, Gilbert,” she said after a moment. He clenched his jaw, but she didn’t notice. For all he was trying to appear collected and cool he hadn’t been able to stop cursing in his mind for a while. 

“With anything in particular?” he ventured.

“With any of this. It’s… I don’t know what is real and what it’s supposed to be like,” she mumbled, as she recalled how sex was always asociated with pain as penetration came, with the need to control herself, with how she sometimes got so close but never quite there, too afraid to let go. It had seemed she was into it, then. Neither of her boyfriends ever forced on her. That Daniel liked to be rough… That was just the way he was, but he was never violent, really. Never even left a bruise, anything that she could relate with actual violence.

“Mainly, it’s supposed to feel good and liberating and fulfilling. A way to connect on a deeper level with your partner, but also to have fun, to play. You’re supposed to feel good. I would love to show you, when you’re comfortable, if you so wish,” he told her, stopping their walk again and looking her in the eyes, trying to convey this message at the very least. She tried to hold his gaze, but eventually laid it on his shoes. “You can trust me, it won’t hurt. And if it did, we would try something else. And if we ran out of options, we could go and see if there is any real cause for concern.” She nodded, still looking at the floor. “Carrots? I’m up here,” he said, smiling softly. She lifted her head, until her eyes met his. “That’s better, Anne-girl. We can figure it out together, ok?”

“Ok,” she whispered. He hugged her and she burrowed herself in his chest, the place in the world that had felt the most secure since she had arrived at Avonlea. Except for Matthew and Marilla’s hugs. But Gilbert’s had grown with her and he always represented everything that could be. He kissed her head, holding her, trying to push out of his mind the anger and bad mood. At least until he dropped her home. He only needed to know one thing more. Because otherwise he might go mad.

“Just one question, love,” he said, feeling his stomach heavy with anxiety, and not daring to ask the question looking at her. “Did either of them… or anyone else, ever force…”

“No, Gil. It was… nothing felt forced at the moment,” she interrupted him. He nodded against her, willing to believe her. “I don’t know how to look back to it, now, after… What you’ve told me. But it was never forced. I was there willingly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. Let's all take a deep breath. 
> 
> So. First things first: It is important that, before judging Anne (or the story, or us) harshly, you take into account the bigger context. Her experiences since she was a toddle up to when she arrived at the Cuthbert's. Those years don't magically disappear because she finds the right, loving family. If only! Adults that went through foster homes have more mental health conditions. It's horrible, and there are many things that should be done both to prevent that and to support these adults, but it is what it is. You can actually read about the prevalence of some disorders here: https://www.ncsl.org/research/human-services/mental-health-and-foster-care.aspx
> 
> Second, we're not inventing the wheel. From the first chapter of the series Anne exhibits behaviors and things that could be associated with a mental health condition. It is something we're exploring in this story. We love Anne as much as any of you- we just try to keep the good and the bad. She's only human and was only a girl. 
> 
> Third, if anything of what was talked about here resonates with you, please, please go talk with someone you trust and a doctor. If said doctor dismisses it, go to another doctor. If those two fail, find yourself a pelvic floor therapist. Consider therapy as well if you've had difficult relationships or just anything you would like to have some objective support. It can do wonders. Change your life. I promise. 
> 
> Fourth, if you're able to, go take a walk outside and breathe. If you're under lockdown, try to move your body today. Some exercise. Look for some yoga on youtube (there's bound to do something).
> 
> Life is beautiful. Have a lovely, lovely day. We'll see you on Wednesday.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, if only today, read the whole notes (even if you tend to skip them)
> 
> Hi, y'all! 
> 
> So... We were blown away by your comments. Like we couldn't even believe how understanding, insightful and enraged towards the right fictional characters you all were. It was absolutely amazing and we thank you all for that. We were a bit worried (ok, I was a bit worried) of someone somehow blaming us because this version of Anne doesn't align with theirs, and it never happened. It was a relief.
> 
> Now, let's continue with the story... If last week was mention of abusive relationships, today is... A bit more complicated than that. People, this chapter might be triggering. I'm not downplaying it or telling it to be safe, I'm saying it because it was deeply triggering to write and I had to step back when writing several times, and then when editing it. And I knew what I was writing and how and what would happen. So please, please, please read with caution and stop when you need to, if you need to.
> 
> You know yourself the best. If you'd rather skip the worst, please follow the instructions at the end of the note. There's no shame in self-care. That's not to say that by skipping the worst nothing bad will be there. It's one of the hardest chapters in this story, so even if you plan to skip the worst, proceed with caution if you know this might get to you.
> 
> So, topics covered here: PTSD, panic attacks, anxiety disorders, nightmares, flashbacks. This is not a walk in the park. 
> 
> Now, for the playlist. The music goes really well with the chapter and it's one of those we really recommend listening to. Here's the link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/62L696ZDCDmKjGrw1c5vvW?si=k7HdR3lmRMWtQdp6PiZbLw
> 
> If you'd rather skip the most triggering part, read up until you find a divider (a horizontal line in the middle of the screen) and then skip until the next one. Again: that just helps skip the worst. And there's no shame in doing so. You'll understand in wide terms what happened even if you don't read it.

Practice divider line, so you know what it looks like (nothing triggering right now, just so you know what to look for later).

* * *

“Fuck, Diana, you better pick up this damn phone now” he told the monotonous tone that was ringing in his car speaker. He was in the parking lot of the hospital, some fifteen minutes before his shift.

“Hey, Gilbert! What’s up? How are you?” Diana’s happy voice finally answered.

“Why in the fucking world does Anne thinks sex should hurt and she shouldn’t enjoy it?! What kind of assholes in their damn twisted mind could get that idea into her mind and how did you allow it to take root? And hell, can you explain why on earth she dated those hosers? Those animals?!” he was mad. His jaw was as tense as it could get and his voice was strong, yet strained, as he tried to reign it to not actually yell in the secluded space of his car. His hands tense, knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel of the shut down car as something to hold on to.

“Gilbert…” he heard Diana say tentatively after a few seconds of tense silence.

“Damn, don’t Gilbert me, Diana! This shit is downright fucked up! The woman I love had traumas of her childhood, yes, but this ? This is shit. Don’t even tell me you knew damn nothing about this shit. I wouldn’t fucking believe you. She is about the most passionate and expressive individual I’ve ever met and she thinks she can’t be herself with a man in bed? What the fuck is that?” 

Gilbert was mad. He had been since they were walking. He had tried to calm down on the final stretch on the walk and had strived to be as caring and loving as he could, not wanting Anne to know how affected he was by everything. But as he dropped her at home on the way to the hospital, he had not been able to hold it any longer. Had Diana and Cole said nothing to her all this time? Nothing at all? He knew for a fact (one he would rather forget, thank you) that Diana and Jerry enjoyed a… very expressive and colourful sex life. He didn’t have to catch Cole and Roy in the act as well to know they did so, too. 

“Gilbert, it’s not like we…” Diana tried again, but he was not having any of it. 

“Don’t come and tell me you didn’t tell her anything about those two assholes. Why would you let her be in a relationship that clearly is not healthy? Shit, Diana, she apologised! She fucking apologised when she realised she had let on that she liked something! I have half a mind to go look for these two wads of shit and give them both a piece of my mind as well!”

“Wait, Gilbert, what?” her voice actually sounded surprised.

“Lincoln and Daniel are their names, I believe? I know you told me they weren’t the best of boyfriends, at the time, but this fucking shit? This is criminal. It’s almost like they…” he stopped his ranting only because the lump in his throat was becoming unbearable, not knowing anymore how he felt. Angry? Frustrated? Powerless? Sad? “I was not there, I know, but… Shit, this is… Fuck, it’s like they broke her, somehow, and I...”

“Gilbert, listen to me. Take a breath, you’re choking,” Diana instructed him. He tried, because he knew she had a point, and rested his forehead on top of his hands, that were still on the steering wheel. “We have been telling her. For years. Even since she met Lincoln… Roy can even tell you more about him, they shared some classes and he was with her every step of the way…”

“Wait a second,” he said, as he heard a tap on the window. He lifted his head and saw Fred’s concerned face, a coffee in hand. He pressed the button to open the door and Fred went around the car quickly and got into the passenger’s seat.

“Blythe, what…?”

“Hey, Fred!” Diana said.

“Diana, fuck, please continue or I swear…”

“Yes. So, she met Lincoln at Uni. She had this very romantic ideal… You knew her back then, it was not long after graduation. Dark, handsome, depressed, the works?”

“And fucking Lincoln fit that shitty profile from hell? Only in misogynistic, twisted and fucking way?” Fred looked at him, opening his eyes, as it was not usual to see collected dr. Gilbert Blythe using so many swear words, jaw this tense, eyes slightly red. Gilbert rested his forehead again on the steering wheel, not wanting to face his friend and willing Diana to continue.

“Unfortunately, yes. And she was in a bad place at the moment…” the implication clear, if it was just after high school. Gilbert swore more and jerked off Fred’s tentative hand on his back. “So there was nothing we could do to end things with him. Believe me, we tried. Even Jerry did and you know he usually doesn’t meddle much, but here he was as overprotective as I’ve ever seen him. So she was pushing us away, and in the end we’d rather be there for her than let her go with this git and know nothing, you know?"

“Diana, this is messed up,” Gilbert answered.

“Believe me, I know. We were happy when Lincoln somehow met someone else and left Anne. She felt like shit, again, convinced everyone she’d ever love was going to leave her when they met another girl… And I’m sorry, Gilbert, but you set a horrible precedent even if you didn’t mean to.”

“Fuck,” was Gilbert’s only answer, feeling worse about the whole business.

“But at least she wasn’t with that asshole, eh? So anyway, we tried for years to make her understand that she deserved someone better, who could actually love her, and then one day she calls me and tells me about Daniel. She’s in BC by now, and I can’t actually meet the guy. Never did. She never brought him to this side and when we visited he was never around. And… I’m not sure how much she told you, because honestly I’m just trying to figure out things out of your rant, but he was… probably as bad as Lincoln, and not really an experience that could prove our point that love can be good and pleasurable.”

“Got the idea, yes,” he leaned back and saw Fred take his own phone out. He rested his head, looking at the roof of the car.

“Hey, Ms. Phyllis. This is dr. Wright. I’m with dr. Blythe here. He’s going to be a bit late, can you reschedule his first appointment? Yes, family problem. Thanks,” he said as someone answered on the line. Gilbert moved his hand, motioning a thanks in the heavy silence that was hanging on the car.

“Gilbert… It’s not that we didn’t try. You know her as well as we do. She is stubborn and when she finds a logic in something, as twisted or nonsensical as it may be, she clings to it if it means the world makes sense again.”

“I know that, Diana, it’s just… I could have never fathomed any of this,” Gilbert answered after a moment, feeling suddenly very tired, deflated and with a ringing headache. He sighed, massaging his nape with one hand, the other one rubbing his eyes. 

“Who could, back then?”

“Yeah, right…”

“Listen, Gilbert… Forgive me if I got it wrong, ok? But… before, I got the idea that something happened between you guys? Finally?”

“Shit.” Clearly, he had not been thinking what he was saying.

“I’m guessing that’s a yes?” Gilbert didn’t answer. “Gilbert?”

“It’s a yes, Diana, only this git doesn’t want any of your gang to know yet because he’s a sap. Could you keep it quiet, please?” Fred answered, eventually, as he saw the conflict on Gilbert’s eyes.

“Oh. Ok,” was Diana’s answer. She seemed to collect her thoughts for a second before continuing. “Look, I understand how messed up this is. Because I’ve been trying to tell her for years. But… If you are with her, maybe actually showing her instead of me telling her abstract things might be what she needs?”

“What she needs is self-esteem and trust, Di, and for all I want, I can’t give her that,” was Gilbert’s answer.

“You can’t but you can support her, Blythe,” Fred said.

“That’s a given,” it was not even a choice, for him to be there for Anne.

“But also show her, Gilbert. Support her, but… show her, as well. How’s she doing after you talked about this, anyway?”

“I just left her home about twenty minutes ago. She seemed quiet, but mostly fine, I think.”

“You think?”

“She was quiet. But she didn’t have any of this… absent minded expression she used to get when she really was in a bad shape. So my guess is, mostly fine,” he explained.

“Check on her later? I will call her as well. Whenever she discusses any of this, she… gets a bit emotional. You’re working till late?”

“One in the morning. I… please, don’t tell her about this? She’d probably have my head if she knew I spoke with you about this. Both of you,” he added, looking at Fred. He nodded.

“I won’t say anything, but I’ll call her either way this evening. As a catch-up call,” Diana said. “And Gilbert? Don’t be so hard on yourself. This whole situation is shitty, yes, but it is not your fault. Her issues go beyond this.”

When Anne saw Diana’s name in the caller’s ID later that evening she didn’t know if she wanted to answer or not, and finally decided to ignore the call, put the phone on silent and throw it to the other end of the sofa. She was in no fit state to talk with anyone right now. Since Gilbert had dropped her at the apartment, she had tried to keep herself distracted from her own mind.

That had meant going for a run, first. She hated running and had a terrible condition, but panting along the dirt seemed to quiet her mind for the best of half an hour. After her shower, she realized that the spiral of thoughts, of memories and of truths she had carried for years had come back stronger than ever. She thought about posting the photo she had taken while running, but could absolutely not come for a description to save her life. So she didn’t.

Then, she tried talking to Gertrude and Robert and Raymond to no avail. Instead of helping her clear her thoughts and divide what seemed to be real now (what Gilbert had told her) from what apparently was not (Lincoln’s and Daniel’s words regarding anything to do with intimacy), she had ended up more confused than ever.

Everything had seemed easier before. Keep quiet, enjoy silently, deal with the pain when penetration eventually came and take care of yourself when alone. Easy peasy. Predictable. A known routine of stifling sounds and controlling her senses and feelings. She knew how to do that and had believed it was the rule, that it was normal. 

Deciding to try one of the tried and trusted Marilla’s advice regarding a worried mind, she decided to make herself of use in the kitchen and started baking. And baking. And baking. Gilbert could take any of the surplus to the hospital if need be. Kneading helped her let out some of the frustration she felt, but the nagging of her mind still held steady, like a constant shadow. Her memories of Lincoln and Daniel somehow meeting Billy Andrew’s and Regina, everything becoming an oddly mess of memories in the back of her mind.

The thoughts came back one after the other as she did small balls of dinner rolls until she could not hold it any longer and decided that if she cried the way she felt like doing, it would not be the end of the world. Only it seemed like it was, as once she acknowledged the lump in her throat and allowed the first tear to come, she couldn’t stop the rest and ended, hands and t-shirt full of flour, hugging her knees on the kitchen floor as she sobbed. 

She managed to get up later and seeing the over-proofed rolls she turned on the oven and decided to bake them anyway. Homemade bread was homemade bread and no one would turn it down, even if oddly shaped. She checked her phone, intending to try and distract herself with some mindless scrolling, but found an old notification from Gilbert that made the knot in her throat return in full force.

**Gil (14:20): How are you doing, Anne-girl? How’s the day treating you?

**Anne S-C (17:53): All good.

One thing Anne would not do was worry him as he worked. Because she did know he worried, and she did know inside her that she could trust him. But she couldn’t allow her need for company, any company, to distract him from his patients. They were more important than she was. Turning on the oven light, she saw hypnotized, tired from the crying and the running, as the small breads grew and got a golden brown. Perfect. Taking them out, she put in the next batch of bread, trying to keep one task in mind at a time. That used to help when she found herself in that state.

She still felt lonely and, even if she didn’t want to disturb Gilbert at work, she wanted to speak with someone. Diana would not do- she had never talked with her about any of this, not without her trying to convince her how she had gotten everything wrong. And she had never talked to sweet, loving Di about the orphanage. Perhaps she could try with Jerry, because he did know mostly everything… but that would mean having to deal with Diana as well. She knew Cole was busy that night. Perhaps… perhaps Kak’wet? She looked for her phone again, frantically, and called her kindred spirit. Again, when she didn’t answer. 

“Hey… It’s me. Call me when you can? I… I could use to talk to you. Please. It’s… Shit, why can’t I keep memories in the past where they belong? They just keep haunting me, Kak’wet, and… Just call me. Please,” she managed to say before hanging up.

When she felt her stomach rumble, Anne realized she had not eaten anything since the coffee in the morning with Gil. Maybe she could have some bread? It was already late, the bread-baking time consuming when she tried to put her full attention to it. She put one on a dish, slathered it with peanut butter as she warmed some water for tea. Seating in the sofa, book in hand (last batch of bread out of the oven now), she went to take the first bite and felt nauseous.

Anne cursed. That’s the last thing she needed. She looked at the bread, trying to tell it to make himself more appetizing, to cooperate and let her eat it, to do something that meant she was not losing it completely again, but instead ended up sobbing again with the warm bread and the peanut butter squished in her hand. Shaking as she tried to control the sobs, she left the dish carefully on the coffee table.

Cleaning her hand somewhat with a napkin, Anne blew her nose (again) as she sat on the bed. She would have a shower and then she would sleep. It didn’t matter than she’d had one already earlier in the day. She could not get into bed in the state she was in or else she wouldn’t fall asleep. She got up again, washed herself methodically, going through the motions, setting the stream in the hottest setting she could manage. Then, she went into bed wearing her pajamas and the hoodie Gilbert had been using, trying to convey him as much as she could. 

Gil would hug her and tell her what was real. He would wait for her to dust the impulses, the urges, she had felt when she was first in a relationship and had stored away, convinced by Lincoln they were bad and repulsive. He would help chase Regina and Billy away as he had done before. With him, she could get to be who she had been meant to be, maybe? She could maybe stop quieting herself? Could what she felt when he touched her actually get all the way to get her to come, and that be well received?

When Gilbert went into the house he felt something was off. There was an inconceivable amount of bread in the kitchen he had only seen once or twice before- both times, when Marilla had been worried out of her mind. He could just see the shapes of the towers of rolls in the darkness. Which didn’t bode well, considering the circumstances. He left his shoes in the rack next to the door quietly and went to the bedroom, sliding off the suspenders from his shoulders. He was starting to open his shirt, fully intending to curl next to Anne after his shower as he had been doing every night since she decided to get into the sofa, but stopped suddenly on the threshold.

He had expected her to be all curled on one side of the bed. But the blankets were very undone. And she was not there. He frowned. This was not good. Going around the bed, he feared she might have fallen off, but she was not there either. He turned on his tracks and went to check the bathroom, turned on the light of the kitchen (when could she have baked all that?) and decided to go to the living room before freaking out and calling her.

* * *

Anne was hugging her legs, sitting in front of her plants. Trying to count each leaf to prevent herself from crying, but feeling as tears streamed down her cheeks all the same. The nightmare had been the worst she recalled- and that was saying something. _113… 114… 115…_ As much as she had been trying for the better part of an hour, she still had not been able to get herself together as she usually could. The memories had been interlaced with terrors and her usual nightmare companions- Billy Andrews and Regina. But now they had been joined by Lincoln and Daniel and everything they had said or did to her.

Making out her shape in the shadows, Gilbert rushed himself to her, kneeling at her side. He saw her tears and knew instantly something was very wrong. Her eyes were void and she seemed concentrated on something, and shook her head when he tried to get her attention. Anne kept counting the leaves, convinced they were the only thing that was going to keep her from falling apart completely. _121… 122… 123..._ She thought she was succeeding. For all she might be still crying, she had been able so far to control the tremmors and the ringing in her ears, so she _had_ to be getting somewhere. And Gilbert finally getting home was not going to distract her from finally calming down.

“Anne-girl, look at me,” he insisted, putting a hand on her arm. She shook her head again. _130… 131… 132..._ “Anne, please look at me,” he repeated in a firmer voice. What was happening here? She sighed shakily and turned to look at him. She had been waiting for him, after all. Everything was going to be alright when he came home. “What happened? How can I help?”

She tried to speak, she really, really tried, but felt something in her throat so big she thought she might choke. So she closed her mouth and shook her head again, trying to breathe, to let air get through. Gilbert frowned, looking at her strain.

“Anne, are you ok? Look at me now. We are going to breathe together, ok?” She looked at him, but the ringing on her ears she had been able to control so far was getting more and more intense, and soon she could not make out any sound he was making. Too much pressure in her ears, she could feel her heart pulsating and she tried breathing quicker, thinking shallow breaths might help. 

Gilbert looked at her and knew instinctively he absolutely had no idea of what to do with what was happening in front of him. Doctor or not, he was at a loss. Shit. He recalled Diana’s words from the morning and reprimanded himself for not coming back early, making out some excuse at the hospital. He took a couple of deep breaths, conscious he had to keep it together to be able to be of any help. Help. Ok. So he could call the hospital… from where they would eventually send an ambulance… He could take her there and have whoever was on guard look at her… That took time. As she curled into herself, her hands covering her ears, he knew he hadn’t time. He took out the phone of his pocket, praying.

“Blythe? It’s almost 2:00. Is everything alright?”

“I need you to come to my place now. Something’s wrong with Anne and I’m freaking,” he managed to say.

“Gilbert, breathe. I’m on my way. What’s happening?”

“She’s not responding. Like she can’t hear me. She’s…. Fred, please come?” he was panicking now.

“I’ll be there in ten. Is she hurt?”

“It… I don’t think so.”

“Is she breathing normally?” he looked at how she was covering her ears with her hands, that were twisted in a weird way, her breathing shallow as if something was attacking her. “Gilbert!”

“She’s hyperventilating? Hands are…”

“Have you touched her? Did she recede?”

“I have. Hand on arm. She didn’t, what…”

“Hug her now and help her breathe to your rhythm. Explain what you’re doing. Your door code is the same?” Gilbert confirmed, swallowing. “I’ll be there, already in the car,” he shot up and went to hug her from behind.

Anne jerked, but didn’t attempt to move him. She didn’t have the strength or the will. She felt a strong tingling in her arms, in her feet, around her mouth. She couldn’t move her fingers for all she wanted. Pressure in her chest. Her head was going to explode, the ringing strong and the pressure so high.

She was so sure she was smelling St. Albans again, the scolding from the matron and the laugh from Regina the only sound she could make out distinctly. She was trash, as they were both telling her that day she had managed to get muddy while playing outside, and she was suddenly six again, so sure that no one would ever want her. The words of the matron telling her how unlovable she was covered in dirt. The smell of the spring mud and from the first flowers. The sun shining brightly on one of the last cold days. She felt so, so cold, but was sweating so much.

Gilbert felt relief as he saw Fred, clad in pajama shorts and a t-shirt, come into his house. He had a case where he knew his friend kept his first aid stuff and tried not to feel even more scared. Fred didn’t even watch him, but kneeled in front of Anne, worry in his eyes. She was breathing better now, a bit longer and steadier, and the tingling persistent but not as painful. She felt she could move her fingers slightly again.

“Anne,” Fred said. Her eyes were still shut hard. “Anne. This is Fred here. Gilbert’s friend. We are in Gilbert’s living room. This is safe. You are safe here. Feel the wood below your feet. It’s Gilbert’s place. Do you feel the floor?” She did, somehow. Flat. This was not the muddy grass. This was flat. And smooth. “Anne, feel that floor. Feel the wood. Do you feel it now? Let me know you do, Anne,” Fred was looking at her intently. He repeated the same words over and over again, his voice calm, until he noticed the tiny nod she managed after a while. He kept repeating over and over the same sentences in the same soothing voice. “That’s good, Anne. You are doing great here. Feel that floor. You are safe here. We are here with you. Still feeling the floor?” she nodded, a bit stronger. “Good, Anne. You’re doing great. Keep feeling that wood. Can you open your eyes for me? You are safe, here, remember that.” 

Gilbert saw as, slowly but steadily, Fred kept talking to Anne and she started responding more and more to his soothing voice. He let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding when Anne finally spoke, telling Fred she was in front of him and a plant. She kept hanging on his words as if they were a lifeline, brushing bit by bit the matron’s words, the muddy floor. She tried answering his questions, trying her best to see what he was seeing and not the orphanage.

“Tell me what you can smell, Anne. What is the smell now?” It was mud and flowers and spring. Wasn’t it? “Anne, tell me what you’re smelling,” Fred continued, nonplussed, his tone as steady as it had been since she had heard him first. She tried again. Mud and spring flowers. And the matron was there again, yelling at her, and there was mud in her shoes and… “Anne, look at me. Don’t close your eyes. Look at me. Feel the floor under your feet?” Was it mud or was it wood? Was the matron yelling? “Anne, tell me if you feel the wood, please.” It was wood and it was Fred. She nodded tentatively. “Remember, you are in Gilbert’s living room. You are safe here,” she felt her breathing become shallow again, confused. She closed her eyes. Orphanage or Gilbert’s living room and mud and… All she could hear again was the matron, and Regina’s laugher, and.. “Anne, breathe with me now. Breathe in while I count…” Fred continued, and started over again.

* * *

Gilbert did not know how long Fred talked to her but he didn’t dare to move from his place behind her until Fred offered her his hands to help her stand up and then guided her in the direction of the bedroom. He stood up as well, feeling stiff, trying not to think of how Anne must be feeling. She let herself be guided by Fred, the orphanage finally behind for the night. Or so it seemed for now, at least.

“Blythe?” Fred called him. He looked up, his sight fixed on the floor as he followed them as a puppy.. “Maybe make some warm milk or tea? I’ll talk with Anne for a moment, and let you know?” he understood he was being dismissed and nodded, going to the kitchen, and heard the bedroom’s door close quietly. He found himself amidst an explosion of baked goods and hated them for what they implied. He set himself to prepare some warm chamomile with honey, in case Anne wanted some later.

Meanwhile, Fred sat next to Anne on the bed. She felt much better, now that she was not trapped on her mind. Just exhausted. Everything ached. Her ears especially, but all her neck and back and head were sore. Her hands had the ghost of the tingle still in them. She flexed the fingers tentatively. She sighed, and then took a deep breath, as if she was coming out of deep water.

“How are you feeling now, Anne?”

“Like shit. I’m sor…”

“Don’t you apologise. There is nothing to apologise for. We are here for you. We love you. Do you want to talk about what happened?” Fred asked gently, holding her hand. She shook her head lightly. “I won't tell anything. Not even to Gilbert. Where were you, before?”

“The orphanage…”

“Has this happened before?”

“Not like this… I mean, I’ve had nightmares since I can remember. I have.. I don’t know…” how was being transported back in time called?

“Flashbacks?” 

“Yes. I’ve had them. Not often. Not like this,” she mumbled, her sight on the floor. “Never like this.”

“They are nothing to be ashamed of, Anne. They don’t make you any less. You are brave and strong and can overcome this, ok?

“I don’t think so, Fred. Everything’s been here forever. Only they had never mixed,” she said. Because that was where the biggest problem was rooted tonight. A nightmare coming to life.

“What had never mixed?”

“The nightmare. Mixing with a flashback. I couldn’t escape,” she said, feeling how her eyes filled with tears, again, and rubbing them furiously. She was tired of crying.

“My opinion remains the same. You can overcome this. You have us to support you. We can help you get help. External help, so you can feel better talking about your things if that’s a concern. Would you like that?”

“I don’t need therapy, Fred. I’m good as I am. There’s people who need it more.”

“You don’t compare yourself with anybody, ok? No one is a point of reference in terms of going to therapy. There is nothing to be ashamed about going. And would you call how you were feeling just now being good, as you said?”

“No, but still. I can’t… It’s expensive.”

“This is not a matter of it being affordable Anne. This is about you feeling good, being healthy and enjoying everything about life. One step at a time. Wouldn’t you like that?” she thought about Gilbert, about finally letting that orphanage go, about… 

“Yes, but I can’t go, Fred. I can manage. I’ve done so before.”

“Anne, please forgive me if I’m blunt. You are not managing, as you say. Having a nightmare followed by a flashback and a panic attack is not managing. Being so caught up in it you take almost an hour to get out of it is not managing it either. You need help and we can help you receive it. Forget about the cost. Forget about other people needing it more than you do. Forget about thinking you are strong enough. You _are_ strong. So strong. But being strong also includes accepting help,” Fred explained, looking at her and speaking with a serious tone. She swallowed. “No one is going to judge you or think less of you. Whatever you talk about in the sessions is not going to be shared with anyone, so it will be a secret between you and who you’re talking to. And with time, you will get better. And you will be able to manage it better. There is no shame in therapy. If you ask around, you might get surprised with the amount of people who have gone. Some people go even when they are feeling good.”

“They do? Why?”

“To sort out problems. To manage their thoughts,” Fred proposed. Anne nodded, feeling more convinced by the idea. “Do you want me to look into it? You could start even later today. I know a good therapist who is doing sessions by zoom, right now. If I ask him, he can probably give you a space.”

“Does Gilbert know him?” The last thing she needed was to go to therapy with another friend of his.

“I’m not sure. Maybe they’ve met at some point? But they are not friends. I’m proposing Patel because he is detached from both of you and he is good,” she nodded. They stayed in silence for a moment, and she pondered Fred’s words. Her resolve waning. Maybe it could be better. Maybe she could sleep well every night. Maybe she could get away from the orphanage just enough so that it didn’t trap her. Fred was looking at her, no pressure or judgement in his eyes.

“Ok. I’ll try,” she accepted after a while.

“Let’s make a deal, you and me. You try for a month before saying it’s not working, ok?” she nodded. “I’ll send you the details later. Now, do you want to sleep? I’m guessing you are bone tired right now.”

“I am…”

“Hop into bed, then,” he said, standing up. Anne did as well and Fred shook the duvet so the bed was almost as freshly made, and motioned for Anne to get in. She obliged, resting her head on the pillow, and he sat next to her, again, tucking her in. “I don’t think you’ll dream much anymore. But if you do, wake Gilbert up. It doesn’t matter what time it is. I’ll coach him in a moment on how to help you. The sooner you catch this, the less intense it’s going to be, ok? If he is not here, remember what we did. Breathe deeply, counting. Feel the soles of your feet. Look around and talk about what you are seeing. Describe what you’re smelling. Talk about what you are listening to. Aloud, not on your mind, ok?”

“Ok.”

“That will always help you. Panic attack, nightmare, flashback. Talk about what is real,” she nodded again. “Ready to call Gilbert back in?” another nod. “Oy, Blyhte? Come here, will you?” Gilbert appeared on the threshold, worry etched on his eyebrows and a cup of chamomile with milk and honey in his hands. He went over them and offered it to Anne. 

“How do you feel?” giving her the cup. He had some tylenol on his hand and offered it as well, guessing she might be achy after all the tension.

“Tired. Achy,” she answered as she accepted it, straightening a bit. Her whole body hurt.

“Drink that, then sleep. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything. Blythe, come talk to me when you’re ready?”

“Want to spend the last of the night here?” Gilbert offered. Because it was nearing half past three in the morning.

“Why not? I’ll text Ella so she doesn’t worry in the morning,” Fred said, going back to the living room. Gilbert took the place he had been occupying.

“How do you feel? Truly?” he said, caressing her cheek. She drank some more, stifling a yawn. God, she hadn’t been this tired in years.

“Tired. Achy. Ashamed of this,” she mumbled.

“Don’t be ashamed, Anne. I’ll send a message to the hospital, see if I can stay with you tomorrow. You’ll be ok by yourself for a bit?”

“I think so,” she answered. He received the empty cup and tucked her in, leaning to give her a peck before going out, closing the door behind him.

“I don’t know how to thank you for this,” he told Fred as he went to where his friend was writing something on the phone.

“You don’t have to. Maybe give me one of those breads?” he proposed. Gilbert shook his head.

“Come have your pick. And then take some home, I have no idea what we’re going to do with them otherwise. So, could you talk with her?”

“Yes. She accepted speaking with someone. I’m setting it up in the morning before she can change her mind. She’s…” he seemed to consider his words for a moment. Gilbert looked at him. “She’s in a bad shape, but it’s not alarming. So I truly think she’s going to be able to sort this out with some help in a few months.”

“That’s some good news.”

“What happened today, Blythe? First I find you in the parking lot as angry as I’ve ever seen you and then this?”

“I feel like it’s all my fault, to be honest,” Gilbert confessed, because he had managed to screw up royally as a teen, had started the conversation in the morning, and then had not been able to help her tonight.

“It can’t be. But let’s go, you can tell me while I eat a… cinnamon roll, and then we will work it out, eh?” Gilbert nodded and they went back to the living room, where they talked quietly for a while before calling it a night. Gilbert made the sofa bed efficiently, having done it more times than he could count on the past few months. He was going to the room, but turned to look at his friend, who was getting into bed.

“I was shit scared tonight, Freddie,” he confessed in a low voice, his hand on his nape.

“I noticed. But you did well, calling me. And she will be ok, Gilbert. She will. Just be there for her, ok?” Fred said to him. Gilbert nodded and left, noticing how Fred turned off the light a few seconds later. Anne was fast asleep, and he curled against her, holding her tenderly, feeling exhausted as the adrenaline from the night wore down.

Gilbert woke up before Anne the next morning. She was hugging him tightly and he could see her face was peaceful, as if there could be not a worry in the world. He didn’t move, instead snuggling even closer to her, watching the hour in the alarm clock he had on the nightstand. 7:40. Still early. Fred was waking at 8:00, so he could eat something and have time to go change and be at the hospital by 9:00, so he had some 20 minutes before he had to get up. Smelling her hair, he relaxed some, trying not to dwell more on the past night’s events. Today was a new day.

A few minutes before his alarm rang, he disentangled himself from Anne’s embrace, careful not to wake her up. He wanted her to rest as much as she could. He grabbed his phone and turned off the alarm before it even went off and walked quietly to the kitchen, coffee in his mind. A few minutes later Fred appeared, sleepy.

“Hey, Blythe,” he greeted.

“Here, have this,” Gilbert said, offering a cup of coffee. Fred nodded. “Have you spoken with Ella?”

“Sent her a message last night. Believe it or not, she’s half used to this kind of thing. Sporadically, yes, but once in a while I do get a call in the middle of the night. Did you sleep well?”

“Some. Kept waking up to check on her,” Gilbert commented, putting out a couple of dishes and making a general signal towards the bounty of bread. Fred took a couple and put them on a plate. “You don’t want to warm them?”

“They’re good like this. And she will be fine. I mean, keep an eye, obviously, but don’t lose your sleep over it otherwise you won’t be of any use. You’re working today?”

“In theory. I have half a mind to go and talk to dr. Yang and see if I can have today off, and change my schedule now instead of waiting until I come back from Montreal.”

“Have you told him at all about Anne?”

“He does know she’s staying with me since… I don’t know, April or something. When I spoke to him about changing the schedule because things were getting serious with her he almost looked relieved. So… yes.”

“Then talk to him. Explain the situation. If you need a formal diagnosis or something as support tell him to talk with me.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Gilbert yawned. Fred shrugged. 

“The offer still stands.”

“Thanks. So you’ll check on her later? I don’t want to impose, but…”

“You’d feel better. I know. Yes, I will. Also to confirm to her the appointment. I already wrote to Patel, see if he can have her… He’s doing zoom things so I think there’s a good chance,” Gilbert nodded. 

“I don’t want to leave her alone today.”

“I can understand that. Bring her to the hospital. That way even Dr. Yang won’t object. And if he tries we just introduce her and he falls in love as everyone else. But bring her, Blythe. Don’t leave her locked down here today. Do something with her. Take care of her. And make her feel comfortable, my guess is she will be embarrassed about the whole thing.”

“She shouldn’t.”

“You know that, I know that, she doesn’t. So help her feel comfortable. Draw a bath, get her something nice to eat, something. Well, I’m off. Let me know if you need anything, ok?”

“Yes. Thanks again, mate. Hey, please take as much as you can of this?” he signaled the bread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.
> 
> Here's what we suggest you do now: go, have a cup of tea (or hot chocolate, or something cozy and warm) and some nice music and call someone you love. Again, take care of yourself. Please. I said it last week, I'll say it again: going to therapy might change your life for the best. If you struggle with anything like Anne does... It's so very worth it. It's hard, but it does get better. You deserve to feel better.
> 
> This is a heavy chapter. We won't try to embellish it.
> 
> What we can and will do, is to not leave you with the heavy feeling until Saturday, because that's in our hands. While we won't be posting a new chapter for Let Me In until then, we do have something... nice and light and butterfly-in-the-stomach worthy. Fred-centered. (Our Freddie, of course, can you not love him?). Because he's a hero and he deserves his very own one-shot. You'll get some university-Gilbert snapshots as well. You can read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023077  
> And with that, we go for now.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!
> 
> So I fell asleep and didn't do my homework. Sorry!
> 
> Your response to the last two chapter has been amazing. Your comments, truly, are everything. We know they are hard and difficult, and we thank you for seeing that we did what we could to give the topic the respect and honesty it deserves. You can breathe now: while we won't say Anne gets all better in 24 hours, or that it's a straight road and there won't be any relapses... This chapter gives nice room for breathing. There aren't even participants for our "warnings and triggers" section. Just nice uplifting music for you here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3IDLq5ZkdeY3nbXWRpj1K4?si=r_1a08JlQMO9fMbuNdVBFQ 
> 
> Also, on a happy side-note, we saw you liked Freddie's story! We're so glad about that. Maybe you'll get more surprises in the future.

“Are you sure, Anne? You can come in with me, there’s no reason for you to wait outside,” Gilbert insisted, holding her hand. She nodded. He had insisted she come with him, luring her with the promise of an ice cream or a cake (she felt like a five year old, but she wanted to be anywhere but the apartment). As Fred had predicted, she had woken up self-conscious, embarrassed and with the apparent inability to look at him in the eye.

It had taken a while, but eventually he had convinced her to at least look at him. Then he had proposed breakfast- none of the bread she’d made, but some comforting oatmeal. The one dish he knew how to make well. As she ate she felt better, after having something in her stomach for the first time since the last morning, and it had given her strength and clarity to think of the day ahead. She had admitted to Gilbert she was going to start talking to someone and had tried to apologise, but he had silenced her with a kiss.

“I’m sure I can wait. Are you sure you can get out of work, though?”

“Yes. 90%, anyway. Please call me if you need anything? Or Fred, he’s around somewhere. By the way, I gave him your number so he can give you the details of your appointment,” she nodded. 

“Go, Gilbert!” she insisted. He gave her a small kiss and went inside the building. She went to a nice tree that was close by and sat, resting against its trunk. She closed her eyes, tired. Everything ached and the dull headache didn’t seem to respond to anything she had taken so far. She thought about the morning, when she woke up alone in bed and felt frightened for a moment, only to find Gilbert preparing something for her to eat. Something that wasn’t any of the bread that gave her nausea, just to look at it and remember her frenzy the day before.

Anne still wasn’t so sure about everything that had happened the night before. At one moment she was waking up from a nightmare she couldn’t quite shake off, and then it had somehow gotten bad, then worse, until she had seen Fred’s brown eyes staring calmly at her as he helped her get out of the horrible flashback. She was worried about the therapy, not knowing if maybe she was beyond all cure.

**Fred Wright (10:49): Morning Anne! How do you feel today? Can I call you?

**Anne S-C (10:49): Sure. You can even come. I’m by the nicest oak in the hospital, next to the parking lot.

**Fred Wright (10:49): On my way. 

“Hello,” she heard someone greet her. She opened her eyes and saw a blonde doctor, fashionably dressed, dark lenses and all even when he was wearing his white robe. “But if you aren’t quite the angel. Have we met before?” Anne rolled her eyes, decided to ignore him and looked at her phone again.

**Anne S-C (10:52) I hate creepy flirty guys.

“What’s your name, my love?”

“First, I’m not your love. And second, I’m busy,” she said, as she saw Fred going out the door. She got up, ignoring the doctor’s hand. “Fred! How are you?” she went to his extended arms, and he hugged her.

“How are you, Anne? You look good today,” he said. She smiled brightly, forgetting the other man. “Come, let’s go upstairs,” Fred said, passing an arm around her shoulder and guiding her. Somehow he always made her feel good. He had a calming presence. They went to his office and she noticed a couple of nurses staring at her, but she just ignored them. “Have you let Blythe know you’re here?”

“No, let me…”

“I’ll text him, no worries,” Fred said, typing quickly on his computer where he had a tab with his conversations.

**Fred (10:57): Anne’s with me. My office. Jones was already trying to snatch her, the git he is.

**Gilbert Blythe (10:58): I hate that ass. Gives me a creepy feeling. I’ll fetch her there, I’m about to go into Yang’s office. Cross your fingers!

“Ok, so. Patel can talk with you at 2:30. Are you free then?” Anne almost laughed, but bit her lip, nervous at the prospect of going into her very first therapy session.

“Yes. I’m unemployed, Fred. I have all the time.”

“I don’t know if you have plans,” Fred answered, smiling gently. “About this, don’t worry beforehand, ok? Go with an open mind. Be honest with him. He will never judge you. Nothing you say is wrong. Maybe make a list before of the things that worry you the most, recurring dreams you may have, anything of the sort. Symptoms, you may experience… It may help the both of you craft a plan. Don’t dwell on it after, ok?” Anne nodded. List of bad things. List of ailing things. Don’t worry after. She bit her lip again. “What’s your worry now?”

“I don’t want to take pills,” she said, horrified at the prospect.

“No one said you had to. Maybe it’s better for you, maybe you can carry on only with therapy. Both are equally fine. You are nothing less for needing one or the other. When you are sick on your stomach you don’t mind taking medication, don’t you?”

“No…” She had never actually thought of it that way.

“There you have it, then,” Fred smiled at her. “So I’ll send you the information in your email, and you can take it from there. Meet with him as often as he recommends and do any homework he might leave you, ok?” she nodded. “Don’t worry about the cost of this, Anne. I promise you, it’s covered.”

“By whom?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Fred said. “So, tell me about your plans for today.”

“Dr. Yang, how are you?” Gilbert greeted him as he entered the office. His boss got up from his desk and went to meet him. A man in his sixties, he was affable as a bear and always had a keen ear to listen. 

“How are you, dr. Blythe? You look worse for wear today, I heard you were having some troubles yesterday?”

“I have, actually. It’s why I need to talk to you. Before anything, though, this is for you,” he said, extending a paper bag filled with the best of Anne’s bread. “My girl made it, and we’re happy to share.”

“My, but it is so much, boy!” the doctor said, peering inside and smelling, signaling Gilbert to take a seat and taking his own.

“It isn’t. She baked way more. I already stopped in the staff room to leave some, don’t worry about it.”

“This is delicious. Smells like heaven. Pass my thanks, please. So, what can I help you with? I’ve noticed you’re much happier these days, is that because of your girl?” Gilbert smiled slightly, somewhat shy at being caught like that. Dr. Yang left the bag next to his umbrella, looking at him with patient affability. 

“It is, actually. Things have taken a recent turn for the better, which is why I asked you about changing the schedule in the first place.”

“And about time! Here I was wondering if I was going to retire before you embraced your experience and degree and asked for a regular schedule. You’re one of the best oncologists in this hospital and here we have you roaming the hallways in the middle of the night as if you were a fresh resident. About time, boy,” Dr. Yang conceded, and Gilbert felt his ears go red. Fred had told him this for years, now, but to have the chief doctor of the hospital say it as well was too much. “So, are you finally going to stop pretending with that ring? Didn’t seem to guard this one girl off.”

“Oh, I’ve known her since we were kids. She did know it was a ruse. I just keep using it out of habit, you know?” he had never actually talked about the ring with Anne, but then again, she hadn’t asked, either.

“I can imagine, though. So, this rough couple of days, anything you want to share?”

“Remember how we said I could do the evening shift until Canada day and then start regular hours after coming back?” Dr. Yang nodded. “I’m afraid I am going to have to ask you a favour. Anne… she’s been having a hard time, and it is hard for me now to leave her alone for so long, especially at night.”

“Is she sick, your Anne?” Dr. Yang leant forward, worried.

“She’s dealing with some mental health issues. Dr. Wright is helping her get some help as we speak. Nights are harder,” Gilbert explained, not wanting to give much away unless necessary. His boss nodded. “So, I wanted to ask you… Could I have today as an exception, out of my vacation days, and then start tomorrow at regular hours? I understand that this is not what we originally discussed, but I never would have thought I would be in this situation.”

“Would that help her feel better?” Dr. Yang asked after a moment, joining the tips of his fingers.

“I believe so. At least I could care for her during the nights, if need arises,” Gilbert tried, being honest.

“How are you going to cover for your patients?”

“I can be on call. I don’t mind being called at any time. I was going to, anyway. As for the rounds and treatments during evenings, I have taken the liberty to talk with Dr. Butcher and Dr. Kemara to see if they could cover for me this week. They have agreed to do so, in the case you accepted letting me change the schedule sooner,” Gilbert explained, anxious. 

He needed Dr. Yang to accept. He could not imagine leaving Anne alone. The other doctor stayed in silence, then checked his computer and wrote some things. Gilbert tried his best not to fidget, thankful with Fred, not for the first time, for insisting in his change of wardrobe. He could not imagine having this conversation in scrubs. Finally, his boss turned to look at him. 

“Look, dr. Blythe, this is not regular. However, I have received constant praise about you, both from the staff and from the patients. Dr. Shephard came here not two weeks ago to talk to me about your advances with difficult patients and the bone marrow research program you’re participating in,” The way Dr. Yang seemed to know everything that happened was beyond him. But he hadn’t come for praise. He had come for a day off and a change of schedule. “You have your day. Keep the phone on you, I fully expect you to come at the minimum emergency. And talk to dr…. Well, to those doctors about covering you, ok?”

“Absolutely, sir. Thank you. Thank you so much,” Gilbert felt so much relief he couldn’t quite voice it.

“Go care for your girlfriend. And bring her one day, I’d love to meet her,” he said. Gilbert nodded. Was this any other day, he would bring her right that moment, but he just wanted to take her to get some chocolate cake, snuggle away the whole day and pray she wouldn’t get any more nightmares. “I’ll see you around, have a good day, dr. Blythe,” he dismissed him. Gilbert nodded, getting up, and shook his hand.

**Gilbert Blythe (11:18): On my way to Fred’s office. Are you still there?

**Carrots (11:19): Yes, I’ll wait for you.

“Hey,” Gilbert greeted Fred from the threshold. “Want to get going?” he asked, turning to Anne. Now that everything was sorted out, he wanted to go quick.

“Blythe, so what did dr. Yang said?”

“Regular hours. Starting tomorrow. Butcher and Kemara are covering for me on evenings and I will be on call forever, but it’s a small price.”

“What does that mean?” Anne asked.

“I have today off to be with you. Then, starting tomorrow, I work from 9:00 to 5:00, and come at any other time if they call me about an emergency,” he explained. She looked stunned. Could he actually do that? No more shifts? “Dr. Yang, that’s my boss, was almost relieved. You have nothing to worry about, Anne.”

“Almost relieved?” asked Fred, a cheeky, knowing smile on his face.

“You shut it, Wright,” Gilbert warned, but he was smiling. Anne got up and said her goodbyes, accepting the hand Gilbert was offering. “So, ready to go for an adventure?”

“Of course, where to?”

“Supermarket,” Gilbert commented conspiratorially. Anne laughed. That sounded good. She hadn’t been to one since March and finally she could show Gilbert all the things he never got right in the shopping list. As they walked down a corridor, she noticed again the stares from the nurses, who couldn’t be over 20-years-old and had the same uniform, but this time accompanied with giggles. Gilbert acknowledged them with a quick nod, but didn’t stop walking and seemed to pick up the pace. He so was not going to engage in conversation with any of them while Anne was present. They would ask all the wrong questions and he would be knee-deep in trouble.

“Gil, they’re staring… why?”

“Maybe your cute instagram posts? Fred says you’re quite the influencer around here? Whatever that means?,” he commented absent mindedly as they finally got to the parking lot.

“You think my posts are cute?”

“Of course I do. I look forward to them every day,” he said, slowing down and looking at her in the eye. Gosh, it was hot in June. Now that he was done with official business, he took off the bow tie and put it in the pocket, opening a couple of buttons on his shirt.

“But you never comment anything,” she protested, and he noticed a bit of a pout on her mouth. He leaned over to give her a quick kiss, chuckling.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like them. I’ll comment on them if that will make you happy, ok?” she smiled brightly, and she almost seemed like there wasn’t any worry in the world. Going into the car, he set off to a supermarket close by that usually had a good selection. Anne was looking around, as if it was the first time she went to one and he realized it probably was the first time she went into any kind of shop in months. “I actually have your list, but do you want anything else? We have all day.”

“Do we?” Gilbert stopped to think. It all depended on her talk with Fred.

“What time is your appointment?”

“2:30…” he nodded.

“Then we have until two-ish. To give some time to eat something. I think two hours is plenty of time?” she nodded brightly and they set off. He concentrated mainly on the contents of the list, which he knew they actually needed, and Anne added more things and corrected him on brands and things, now that she had the options in front of her eyes and was not shopping blindly through his. He hummed to  _ You Send Me _ by Sam Cooke, the song that was currently playing on the speakers of the supermarket, as Anne grinned at the selection of flours and picked a couple.

“See? This is organic and has no artificial flavours. This one isn’t. Gil, honestly, you’re the doctor here. Oncologist at that. Don’t you keep an eye on this?” she asked. He shrugged. He honestly didn’t.

“You can be glad I don’t eat canned ravioli anymore?” he said, trying to distract her. She rolled her eyes. They were almost at the end. “Come, I want to check if they have something in the bakery,” he told her, steering the shopping cart in that direction. Anne looked at the showcase as Gilbert received the package he had ordered in advance.

“I wish they had something vegan,” she said sadly, her back to him, as he put the package on the cart. She didn’t seem to notice, her eyes glued on a chocolate cake. Gilbert chuckled.

“I’m sorry, Carrots. Come, maybe we’ll find something,” the guy that had handed Gilbert the box was about to say something, but silenced himself and smiled as Gilbert winked at him. “Anything else we’re missing?”

“Chocolate ice cream? If there's no cake…” she said sadly. “I really have to learn how to bake stuff other than banana bread. Last time I tried a cake it turned horribly.

“You can practice. I don’t mind,” Gilbert proposed, as she picked the same tub Fred had offered when they visited. They paid (Gilbert refused her payment, as usual, and she blushed, again) and finally they got to the apartment. “Go take a short nap. You look tired. I’ll prepare lunch, ok?” She nodded, yawning, not realizing at the moment she was trusting him with the task of cooking. She was really tired right now. He gave her a hug, a kiss, and sent her on her way.

Looking around the kitchen, where they had put everything out, he thought about what to cook. He still did not know how to do so. With her instructions he managed, but he couldn’t come up with an idea for a salad to save his life.

**Gilbert Blythe (13:15): Freddie. What should I put into a salad?

**Fred (13:16): Are you serious? 😑 

**Gilbert Blythe (13:16): I wouldn’t ask otherwise 🙃 Salad?

**Fred (13:16): Send me a picture of your fridge? Might be easier?

Gilbert did and soon was following instructions, trying his best to remember what Anne had told him and asking Fred before any initiative. Just in case. Until he was happy with the result. He peered into his room, and saw that she was curled up, a throw covering her. Looking at the time, he decided it would be better to wake her so she could eat before her appointment. He went to sit by her side and caressed her hair softly, She opened her eyes after a moment.

“Time to eat, Anne-girl,” he said. She smiled as she stretched, feeling recovered. They ate mostly in silence and soon it was time for her to have her call. Anne was nervous, trying to recall Fred’s tips, and was writing on a sheet of paper things that came to her mind. Gilbert just scrolled on his phone, trying to give her space. “Do you want to be in the bedroom, in the living room? I can leave you alone, even go out of the apartment if that makes you more comfortable.”

“There’s no need for that, Gil. I can just go to your room,” she said, going to retrieve her laptop from the bookcase. “I’ll get going now.”

“Call me if you need anything?” she nodded, and he got up to clear the table. He organized the kitchen, brewed some tea and debated on whether to bring her some or not. Maybe next time, when she wasn’t so nervous? 

**Gilbert Blythe (14:56): I’m sorry I’m a nosy git. How long are these appointments? I can’t believe I forgot.

**Fred (15:01): About one hour. Why?

**Gilbert Blythe (15:02): Because I am, in fact, a nosy git? And I wanted to draw her a bath as you suggested, but don’t want it getting cold.

**Fred (15:02): Might be a nosy git, but a nosy git in love. You’re cute 😉 Patient coming in. Bye.

Anne was soaking in the tub Gilbert had prepared for her. She had brought her book, thinking she might read for a bit, but it lay forgotten on the floor. She just kept repeating in her head everything she had just discussed with dr. Patel. Not only about the orphanage experience, but also about her worries concerning relationships after talking with Gilbert the day before. About the possibility of maybe letting go. Of maybe sex beng enjoyable. He never seemed surprised, never said a judging word, and only ever asked her questions to bring out what she was really thinking. If someone had ever told her therapy would be this way, maybe she would have caved in before. She felt tired, but relieved.

Playing with the water, pushing the bubbles from one side to the other, she enjoyed her time alone there. It felt good to be alone and at ease after last night when everything had seemed so dooming. Gilbert kept sending her worried looks, even though she assured him she was really feeling better after talking with Fred and that she had not had a nightmare the rest of the night. Still. She did feel better, the headache finally subsiding. Washing her head, she decided it was enough. She wanted some of that ice cream and for Gilbert to hug her through a movie or while they read or anything.

“Was your bath good?” Gilbert asked when Anne curled next to him in the living room, her hair still on a towel, her pajama shorts and an old t-shirt of his. He left the book he was reading aside and hugged her, giving her a kiss on the head, over the towel. She felt so relaxed she closed her eyes.

“It was perfect. Almost got all the pains out. Thank you,” she mumbled, burrowing her face in the familiar scent of his shirt as he chuckled, caressing her back. She sighed.

“Which ones stayed?”

“Which what?”

“Pains. Maybe I can help. Rub your back or something,” he proposed. She thought about it for a second, the images from the massage she had given him coming to the front of her mind. She wasn’t so sure about taking her shirt off. But a massage would be nice. Gilbert sensed her hesitation. “You can stay in your pajamas, you know?”

“Ok, then. It’s mainly on the shoulders, anyway,” she accepted, leaning forward so he could move. He turned, and started massaging her over the t-shirt she had slipped on, one of his old ones, soft and thin black fabric. Finding quickly the knots in her shoulders, he worked through them as she hissed in pain. “Must it hurt so bad?”

“I’m sorry, Anne-girl. You’re just very tense, and it shows on your muscles. I can put something for the pain if you want,” Gilbert commented. He was trying to be as composed and detached as he could from having both his hands on her shoulders. 

“No, it’s fine,” Anne said, closing her eyes. He continued for a moment and she tried to focus on the music he had on,  _ Pyra _ by Monma Cocabona, and not on the pain or his hands. Eventually it started to feel better and she sighed, turning to look at him. His eyes were focused on her shoulders, his hands working methodically. How could he be so invested in everything he did, was a mystery to Anne. “Thank you, Gil. Feels loads better now.”

“I can keep going, if you want,” he said. Looking at one small tear on the old t-shirt seemed to be doing the trick of diverting his attention. She shook her head. It was starting to feel more good than painful and she was not that sure about his mood.

“I actually only want ice cream…” Gilbert laughed and stood up, offering his hand.

“Let’s go for ice cream, then. And maybe something else… could I entice you to have some chocolate cake?” he said as she took it, seeing how her eyes lit up.

“You didn’t! But I watched and they all had eggs and stuff!”

“Ordered it in advance. So, cake with ice cream?” she nodded and he smiled, happy at how she enjoyed little things in life. They went to the kitchen and he served her a generous portion, a smaller one for himself. “Is that towel part of your outfit?”

“Only until it dries some? Then I’ll untangle the whole mess while we watch a movie or something,” his look changed, as if he was wondering something. “What?”

“Can I help you with that?” Anne frowned, confused. “With the untangling, I mean,” he explained, and she saw how the tips of his ears turned pinkish. 

“Well, if you want, but there’s no fun in that,” she said, grabbing the dishes and going back to the living room. Brushing hair was annoying and boring and about the one thing she had enjoyed about very short hair. Gilbert disagreed with that statement. Anne’s hair, in his hands? For a while? Please, it sounded so good. He went to the bathroom to grab the brush she usually used and sat again behind her as she picked a movie.

“How do I do this?” he asked, taking off her towel and leaving it aside. It did look like a mess. A lovely, red haired mess he had no idea of how to tame. She laughed.

“Just start on the bottom, small section, working your way up. If you get bored I finish,” she said.

But Gilbert didn’t get bored, just relishing in how the red seemed to be changing colours as it dried, how it reflected the light and felt as soft as he always imagined. He didn’t even noticed what Anne put on the tv, so engrossed he was brushing her, sliding his hands up and down her hair. She wasn’t paying much attention to the series either, reconsidering her whole relationship with hair brushing. Maybe she could convince Gilbert to do it every day? His fingers as he grabbed the sections felt good, and he seemed to be brushing directly against her back- which was ticklish in a good way. What she had been able to brush off with the cake after the massage was now coming full force. And he was still as collected and methodical. Eventually, Gilbert ran out of excuses to keep brushing and set the brush next to the empty plates.

“Thank you,” she said, turning to look at him in the eyes. Was that a small blush on her cheeks?, he thought, trying not to smirk. Not knowing how she felt today after her meltdown, he had done everything he could to reign any instinct, not wanting to take any advantage of the situation. So he had massaged in a careful but detached way. He had brushed trying to separate what he was doing from her. And he had done well, he thought. Until he saw her blush and felt his mouth go dry. He cleared his throat.

“So, have I graduated brushing?” Gilbert asked, trying to dissipate the silence and keep the mood light. Anne blushed even deeper, nodding. It had felt so nice to feel his hands on her shoulders and then caressing her head and her nape as he tried to gather all the hair as he brushed. She had remembered the first morning they were together, when they had made out over the kitchen island. That had not happened any more, with him being careful, loving but controlled. How could he be so controlled? That had felt good, even when she was trying to reign himself. If she had allowed herself to… enjoy it fully, how good could it have been? 

Gilbert nodded in response, putting carefully behind her ear a strand that was going over her face. He should go prepare tea or something, but instead felt glued to the sofa as he saw Anne watch him as if she was considering something, her eyes slipping quickly over his mouth and then somewhere else. She wanted to kill him and his self determination, he thought as his resolve decreased.

“Anne…” he whispered, with the intention of offering anything to drink that gave him an excuse to get up, but instead staying silent as he admired how her freshly brushed hair framed her face, all blue, wide, wondering eyes. She bit her bottom lip and he sighed, shaking his head slightly. “ I can’t do this,” he mumbled quietly to himself, annoyed, lowering his gaze. “May I kiss you?” he asked clearly, watching her to the eyes, desperation in his voice because he felt so torn between feeling he was somehow taking advantage and thinking she might want this as much as he did. She nodded, as if somehow he had voiced the question in her mind.

Gilbert moved forward, his hand to the nape of her neck, tangling with the slightly wet hair, looking Anne in the eyes as she turned so they were front to front. Still an inch of two between them. He took a couple of breaths, still undecided. Anne was having none of it.

“Contrary to what you think, I’m not going to break, Gilbert,” she whispered, her hand going to his cheek. He chuckled, ashamed and relieved at the same time, his forehead against hers. “I want this, Gil… I just,” she said, closing her eyes. How to voice this?

“I don’t want you to feel I’m taking advantage of this,” he explained, as honest as he could, leaning back a little, kissing her forehead. He could control himself.

“What? No! I just. I want this. I want to see how it is. I just don’t know anymore what is supposed to… Or what I’m supposed to…” she blushed again, uncomfortable, but did not let go of him. She wanted this. Gilbert recalled the conversation before everything went so hard the night before. Their faces still so close.

“Anne? We’re a team, remember?” he said, looking at her in the eyes. She nodded, and he saw her instantly relax. They were a team, he was right. “Anything we do here, we’re doing it together and we are learning together. I know as little about you as you do about me in this regard, doesn’t that sound like a fun challenge?” he smiled softly and she nodded again. She seemed more relaxed, which relaxed him in turn. “Can you trust me as much as I trust you?” he asked lastly, and when she nodded again he moved forward to kiss her.

Anne corresponded quickly, tangling her hand on his hair and bringing him closer to her. How could she have gone so many years without kissing him? She nibbled on his lower lip for a second and he granted her access, and she explored every bit of him as she felt his arms envelope her in a tight embrace. They separated just a little and Gilbert looked at her.

“Is this alright?” he asked, not sure yet about how she felt about all this.

“Gilbert, it is,” she replied. “Unless I say something is not, it is alright,” she insisted.

“I still prefer to ask,” she shook her head and kissed him again to silence him, because his words felt stupid, somehow.

“I trust you. I know implicitly you won’t take advantage,” she argued, before kissing him again. He chuckled into the kiss.

“We might have different views on that,” he said when she let go and started trailing kisses along his chin and his jaw.

“We might. In which case I would say something and trust you to stop,” she said softly to his ear, causing shivers to go down his spine. “Is this ok, Gilbert?” she asked, a bit of a tease in her tone, and he thought it was a ridiculous question. Nothing she did to him could not be ok, he wanted all of it, more of it, all the time.  _ Oh.  _ She leaned back a bit when he didn’t answer.

“It is! Goodness, Carrots, it is ok!” he said desperately, wanting her to just kiss him again. She giggled and leaned forward again.

“See what I mean?” she said in between little nibbles to the lobe of his ear that felt so good he had no words, he was just stunned with sensation there. She leaned back a bit to look at him, all dark eyes, blush in his cheeks to match hers, his hair slightly ruffled after she had run her hands through it. 

When Gilbert leaned forward to kiss her again, Anne leaned back to rest on the sofa, taking him with her. He kept his balance over her with one arm as he kissed her and adjusted a bit when he let go of her lips for a second, straddling her in a way that didn’t crush her as he nibbled his way down her neck towards the t-shirt collar. He felt her squirm underneath her and smiled into her neck.

“Carrots, you’re liking this?” he asked, not looking up to her as he licked a bit of her collarbone. She took in a shaky breath of air and swallowed, trying to compose herself. Gilbert noticed and nibbled just so on the bone that he felt her squirm again. “You like this, don’t you, Anne-girl? You can enjoy this, you don't have to hold back,” he insisted, kissing her neck again as he caressed her waist with the hand he was not using for balance, feeling more turned on by the second.

Anne was trying to breathe, caught in between trying to control herself and trying to let go, when she felt Gilbert’s breath in her ear. “I like hearing you moan, when you feel like moaning,” he whispered slowly. If she felt like being quiet, that was good. If she was fighting to keep quiet, that wasn’t. And as if his words were magic, she let go a breath, a whimper, something that told Gilbert that she was, indeed, liking this. “I love hearing you when you enjoy yourself,” he whispered, and resumed kissing her along the collar of the t-shirt, the hand he had on her waist toying with the hem. Anne felt a bit of his hand brush against the skin of her waist and realised how much she needed him to touch her, but felt at a loss of how to go about that. Her hands were still on his hair, tangled in the soft curls. 

She trailed one on his back and he felt shivers running down it, going all the way down to his crotch. As she explored, pulling his shirt out of the pants he was wearing, he gave little bites alongside her jaw, relishing on the tiny noise she was no longer holding so much. She seemed to fight with something and he realised she was trying to do something about the suspenders. He leaned back, slid them down his shoulders as she looked at him, biting her lip. Why did the image of Gilbert in suspenders do this to her? He took the shirt out of the pant all the way, as it seemed like she had been trying to do that, and leaned forward again.

“Just…” she said, as she noticed he was leaning down again. He stopped and looked at her, full attention. She blushed. “Could you…” He shot up one eyebrow.

“Tell me, Carrots,” he wanted her to communicate. To know she could voice whatever she wanted. She took some air.

“Would you mind taking off your shirt?” she asked quickly. He leaned forward and gave her a hot, quick kiss.

“I would not mind,” he said, undoing a couple of buttons and sliding it up, throwing it to the floor. Hot as it was outside, he had not worn any undershirt that day and she just admired his bare chest, touching it lightly with her fingers as he closed his eyes. Her feather-like touch did strange things to his insides and he let out a small hiss of pleasure. She took off her hand. “That feels nice, Anne-Girl,” he said, his voice raspy, and he felt her fingers again, less doubtful but equally curious. “Goodness, Carrots, the things you do to me…”, he mumbled, his eyes closed, all the nerves of his chest on fire. She leaned up a little and kissed him on the chest lightly, and felt him go tense.

“Is that good?” she asked, nervous. He opened his eyes, meeting hers.

“So good,” Gilbert nodded, swallowing, and moved forward to kiss her hungrily, but then pulled her back with him so she was on top of him. Anne answered in kind, her hands going around his waist, feeling how soft his skin was, how firm he felt underneath her fingers. His hands going to her waist over the t-shirt and slowly moving higher. The other day she had not minded him going up. So that would be his standard, unless otherwise stated, he decided, as he brushed her nipples over the fabric with his thumbs. She inhaled sharply and he did it again. 

“Gil… that,” she said, her voice shaky.

“You like that, Carrots?” he asked, biting lightly at her neck, his hands still on her breasts. She did not like it. What she was feeling was beyond a word as mundane as  _ like _ . 

“Do… yes,” Anne answered, closing her eyes, not thinking coherently. The way he touched her undid her, but even if it did, this didn’t feel like near enough. He kissed her lower, over the fabric, wishing he could just take it off. But he wouldn’t ask if she didn’t take the initiative, not yet. When he kissed her near the nipple, she couldn’t suppress a moan, her hips moving slightly forward, surprising even herself with her boldness, and felt Gilbert’s lip move towards a smile.

“That’s quite right, Anne-girl, express it,” he mumbled. Anne could not stand this. She needed to feel him, and having her hands on his skin was not enough. Following the length of his arms, her hands went over his and guided them, for Gilbert’s surprise, to the lower hem of the t-shirt.

She slid them under the fabric, his hands now on her stomach, and then took hers back to his shoulders, her nails going slowly over his skin. He hissed at the feeling, his hands in unchartered territory, not daring to move them from where Anne had left them. She had expected her gesture to be inviting enough. Anne wanted to be touched, damn, and Gilbert kept being this gentleman she didn’t know how to handle. He moved over to kiss her, mainly to distract himself from his own hands. She corresponded, but ended the kiss short, her hands moving to the sides of his face.

“Anne, I…”

“This is ok, Gilbert,” she forced herself to say. She swallowed under Gilbert’s dark eyes. Was she giving him permission to… “touch me, please,” Anne said, the whisper of a voice, her face blushed not only for her excitement but for how self-conscious she felt asking for something as forward as that.

Gilbert moved forward to kiss her again, more passionately than before, and she corresponded in earnest this time. He moved his hands slowly, feeling the skin he could not yet see, its softness and its warmth, and eventually he met her breasts. He repeated the movements she had seemed to like the other day, brushing her nipples with his thumbs, feeling how hard and erect they were. She whimpered into his mouth and he moved to kiss her neck, as she supported herself on his shoulders, leaning lower.

“I love to see you this undone, Carrots,” he murmured against her skin. “I love to be the one that makes you feel this,” he continued, nibbling her jaw as she tried to suppress a moan. He would surely not like this. One, ok, but her all noisy? He almost felt her bit her lips, noticing the tension on her neck muscles. “Don’t keep them in, Anne-girl. If you feel something, let it out…”

“I… I don’t…” Anne tried, not understanding his ability to form coherent sentences. How could Gilbert Blythe be so collected all the time? Especially when he was doing this to her?

“You do know, love. Just be you,” Gilbert answered, pinching a nipple slightly with his fingers as he licked her collarbone slowly, eliciting a strong moan from her accompanied with a definite movement of her hips and making him moan in return. If this was with clothes, how would it be when they finally had sex? When he could actually make love to her? “Yes, Carrots. Move as you feel,” he said, a strained voice. He had strived to talk to her, to reassure her that she was not doing anything wrong, but it was getting harder and harder to continue.

Anne moved again, feeling how delicious he felt against her, in awe at the fact that he, too, was undone enough to moan. “Anne, yes…” he tried, trying to motivate her to keep the movements, his hands going to her bottom to bring her closer to him, as closest as he could. They breathed heavily, no need to speak, finding some kind of rhythm that was bringing them closer and closer to a release. She felt a knot forming inside her, something she had never felt while with a man. She felt torn. Could she actually do this? Was this possible? Was it too much? She slowed down. Maybe some other day.

Gilbert felt the change in the movement instantly and, while he so wanted to protest, decided not to push it. They had all their lives, and this was beyond anything he thought he would be doing anytime now. He would just get a shower to get it down, if needed, he decided, and moved to kiss her again. A slower, quieter kiss as she stopped moving completely.

“You are so perfect it makes no sense, Carrots,” he whispered as she curled on his chest and felt her sigh, shakily. His hands moved slowly to her back, under the t-shirt, and caressed her slowly, soothingly, up and down her spine. They stayed like that an undefined amount of time, eventually her sliding off him and resting next to him along the sofa.

“Thank you, Gil,” she murmured after a while.

“Whatever for?” he asked, confused.

“Helping me be strong,” she mumbled into his chest. He moved and kissed her on the head.

“You have nothing to thank me for. You are strong all by yourself, I’m just in along for the ride, to cheer you along any step,” he said.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so feeling a little better today than on last Wednesday? :)
> 
> Tell us, you expected any of this? Gilbert fulfilling a weird, hair-related dream? Gilbert trying to cook with Fred's help? Annnnnd cute nurses saw Anne in person for the first time. I can actually imagine many of you holding your breath to see if something was going to explode. It didn't. Yet.
> 
> Well, tell us your thoughts! We're curious about what you think.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... did you let out a sigh after nothing heavy happened last chapter? It was needed and nice and fluffy and relaxing. We all want some kind of variation of Gilbert Blythe. And Fred. As many of you already figured out, we tend to put things here and there from the series, or details that come again chapters later in the story. This is just to say that we usually don't put characters randomly unless they are of some significance for the story.
> 
> Anyway! We're in for a good week. Or day? Anyway, a good chapter to start with. Better yet: music and a good chapter. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2OOayH5hh2NQMdFofGnwOe?si=Ko35LDU5TECpCbS9HzbVDg
> 
> Oh! on other news, a reader kind of convinced us to upload on Wattpad. We're... crashing with technology, but the first chapter is there in case any of you reads there as well and wants to start over. We will be updating once a week, probably, so it will just be behind this. But if you enjoy a second reading... there it is. We are AnoukeHikari, because there you can't co-author :(
> 
> So, let's get on with this.

“Ok, Diana, let’s do this!” Anne told her bosom friend, who looked more worried than excited at the prospect of doing her hair in a formal updo on her own. Marie was by her side, a mixture of properness and mischief, the perfect mix of her parents. A week or so had passed after she’d had that bad nightmare (she didn’t want to call the whole thing by any other name) and she had met the therapist three more times. They had agreed to meet every other day for at least a couple of weeks and then only once or twice a week, depending on her progress. This was Gilbert’s last work day before their trip to Montreal, and his regular schedule had done wonders for Anne’s sleep patterns. If anything, she felt great that morning. 

“Anne, I’m still not sure about this…” Diana replied.

“But, mom! You said you would do my hair as well!” Marie insisted and Anne laughed.

“Look, we are recording this and then you can look over it at a later day, ok? And if you have doubts before the wedding, you call me and that’s it,” Anne tried to comfort her. She saw the figure of Jerry approach the camera and put himself onto the frame, causing Anne to roll her eyes. “Must you interfere with everything?”

“When there’s either of you three involved, of course. What are we playing at today?” he asked, putting his daughter on his legs.

“We’re playing at the distance hair salon!” explained Marie. “But your hair is not long enough to play, dad.”

“Is it not?” Jerry asked, skeptic. Over the years he had let his hair grow a bit more and kept it on a small ponytail that Anne still could not understand how Diana and her properness standed.

“Of course not dad, it is too short for braids!” Marie insisted and Anne laughed in spite of herself.

“Jerry, seriously, I’m trying to help your wife, here…”

“I can watch.”

“So nosy!” Anne exclaimed, expecting him to move. But he didn’t. So she groaned and Jerry laughed. “Well, we are doing this either way. You’re just going to make a full appearance on our video. Might as well make yourself useful, pay attention so you can help Di that day.”

“Anne, I’m not sure about this…”

“You married him, you deal with him,” Anne said, half exasperated, but in a good mood. “So, ready? We’re going to start parting these two sections and clipping them away…”

“But why would you do that?” Jerry asked.

“Jerry! Silence! So, you part them because those are going to be your braids and that’s the hair you’ll use for them. You don’t want it to get mixed. So…” Anne continued the explanation, going slowly, as Diana repeated her movements all the way in PEI and Jerry asked obnoxious questions that annoyed Anne but made her laugh. He tried helping Diana until she slapped his hand and he sat in his chair, only passing bobby pins as directed. They undid the whole thing and repeated the process one more time. By then, Jerry was still sitting next to Diana and Marie, but was reading a newspaper and interjecting only occasionally. But he could not help looking at Diana, who did look very nice, once every couple of minutes.

“Do you really think this is going to be good for you to publish, Anne?”

“Nonsense! Of course it is. Who’s going to see it, anyway? It’ll just sit on my instagram account and we both know no one sees the things on IGTV, anyway. Maybe a couple of those teen nurses at Gilbert’s hospital, and they could use a hair tutorial,” she explained. Jerry closed the paper and looked at them. Marie scurried off in the cute hairstyle Anne had taught Diana for her.

“Are you seriously publishing this, sis?”

“Annoying you and all, yes” Anne looked at him, making him a mock face. “With a few edits, I’m sure, and not all the audio. But you’re going to have a stellar appearance in an updo tutorial video, Jerry Baynard, how do you feel about that?”

“How do you feel about telling me what’s going on in that apartment in Hamilton?” Jerry asked as an answer, leaving the paper on the table. Anne blushed profusely and pushed the stop button on the recording.

“There is nothing going on,” she said, but could see something of a knowing glint in both Jerry’s and Diana’s eyes. Only she would not acknowledge it, because that meant confessing, and she was not ready to share anything about this yet. Not when it was so raw, so new, so full of expectations she couldn’t yet mouth.

“Your blush is as cute now as ever. Tu penses qu’elle va nous dire quelque chose aujourd’hui, ma belle?” he said and Diana just shook her head, smiling, and Anne rolled her eyes. “Ok, tell yourself there’s nothing going on. You’re still recording this?”

“No, stopped a bit ago,” she said. She had stopped as soon as he had derailed from the main topic at hand, him in a hair tutorial video.

“Have you given any thought to anything you’ve ever talked with me?”

“Of course not, when have I ever?” Anne said, defensive.

“You both, seriously behave like the adults you are. Mon amour, t’en veux un café?” Diana turned to Jerry, standing up.

“Diana, Jerry, stop speaking in French!” Anne said, completely annoyed.

“She’s just offering coffee, Anne! Seriously, we don’t only talk about you! Café, oui merci. Quand est-ce que tu penses qu’ils vont accepter toute cette histoire pour qu’on puisse parler librement?” Jerry answered Diana, who rolled her eyes.

“Never,” she answered, and Anne narrowed her eyes. She hated being left out of the loop. “I’ll be right back,” she said going in the direction Anne knew the kitchen was.

“I’m not buying this, Jerry. What were you saying?”

“She offered coffee. I accepted. Now, let’s talk about how relaxed you look today. Any news?” Anne ignored him as she transferred the video to her laptop and started editing. “You do know you’re an open book, right?” Anne bit her lip, considering. This was Jerry. She could trust Jerry. Older brother, annoying, obnoxious Jerry.

“I started seeing a therapist. Well, zooming with him, but the point stands,” she explained. Jerry frowned for a second, but then looked relieved.

“Were you having bad dreams again?” The years he had lived in Green Gables he had been a witness to many of Anne’s night terrors, that were especially bad in that time surrounding the loss of the farm, Matthew’s death, Marilla getting sick and Gilbert all but non-existent in her life. She swallowed, considering telling him about the other night. He had tried to help her so many times back then she knew he would not judge her any more than Gilbert had.

“Yes. I had… an especially bad one the other night, and it somehow got worse when I woke up. Gilbert’s friend, Fred, convinced me to try to speak with a professional and see if that would help.”

“I know Fred. He’s a good guy. And has it helped?”

“I suppose it’s too early to really tell? But it has felt good, talking with someone and getting my thoughts in order. Barely week and I can feel some changes.”

“What does Blythe say about this? Has he been of any help, le niaiseux?”

“He has, for a fact, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t insult him in French. He’s letting me live at his place, remember?” Jerry huffed, as if he knew something else. “He called Fred in the first place that night and has been trying to help as much as he can. But yes, so I’ve been talking to this therapist and so far everything doesn’t look as gloomy. So there’s that.” Jerry nodded as Diana came back with the coffees and Anne changed the subject to Marie’s plans for school coming fall. Jerry was kind of her brother, but she didn’t want to discuss going to any kind of therapy with perfect Diana, her bosom friend at heart. At least not when it was still so new, she would probably tell her when she was more comfortable with the whole idea.

_ callmecordelia just made a post _

The notification buzzed just as he was sitting to have lunch with Fred, some other doctors and a couple of nurses. He slid it open and waited for it to load as he opened his tupper: today, a mix of quinoa with roasted veggies, some sauteed tofu and salad.

“That looks yummy, dr. Blythe,” commented one of the nurses, Victoria.

“What? Oh, it does. Thank you,” he said, distracted as he could not take his eyes off Anne’s picture. It was of her back, curls going down her back, some kind of messy braid going down. Her hair seemed to beg to be touched and he remembered the afternoon he had brushed her.

_ callmecordelia: Special hairstyle day! I posted a tutorial in case you’re in need of a DIY hairstyle for whatever social zoom event you might have coming up. Or a real life event. With a special apparition of @jerryofgreengables to show you how your partner can help when they’re in the right mood, and the best ever @dianabaynard to show you can do it by yourself if he’s not talented with a brush. Go watch it on IGTV! _

_ @gilbertblythe: so, talented with a brush? _

He typed and posted without thinking, managing somehow to be her first comment.

“Blythe, you won me!” Fred said with a mock suffering voice. Gilbert frowned at him. “I’m always the first!”

“You have a weird obsession with Anne and I don’t know if I should get concerned about it,” Gilbert commented, frowning a bit.

“I think of her like the little sister I never had, Blythe. Forest fairy little sister. Who would have thought she had those… aesthetic abilities?” Fred answered, as if it was so obvious he couldn’t understand Gilbert’s comment.

“Are you talking about your wife, Blythe?” asked Sherman, a fellow doctor, looking at the picture on Fred's screen. She looked curious as she scrolled Anne’s pictures.

“It is! Isn’t she a beauty?” Fred asked, as if he was some kind of proud relative. Gilbert gave him a stern look, his ears pink. Sherman nodded. 

“She is. Had never heard you talk about her before,” she commented, passing the phone back to Fred.

“I don’t talk much about my personal life at work, I guess…” Gilbert explained, for a lack of any better explanation. Fred laughed.

“Will she come back, dr Blythe? She came the other week, didn’t she?” Victoria asked him.

“She did. I suppose she will come back at some point in life, it’s not like she has a special motive,” he answered, before Fred could say anything else. He ate a little. Quinoa was yummy. He was so lucky Anne cooked and actually enjoyed it.

“Oh, I will for sure watch her video. We have a zoom birthday party this weekend and it will be perfect.”

“I’m sure she’ll be happy about it…” Gilbert tried to be vague, see if the subject died down. He opened the post again. How could she be this beautiful, talented and passionate and still want to be with him? He had hoped for years and years, but his wish becoming real? That was something else.

“What’s with that brush comment anyway, Blythe?” Fred asked him.

“What?”

“Your comment? Are you talented with a brush or what? I would have never imagined, seeing that mop of yours.”

“Hey, this mop now has a shape. And apparently I am, I helped her the other day and… Well,” he felt his ears burn again, Sherman, Victoria, Fred and their other table companions looking intently at him, waiting for him to continue. “I just brushed it! It’s not a big deal, is it? Normal thing to do? Anyway, her hair is so soft and I had never noticed, but have you seen how light hair changes colour?”

“Blythe, you are so gone, I would have never imagined! Always thought of you as the most stoic doctor in the building,” commented doctor Sherman, as the student nurses giggled and Fred could not control his laughter any longer.

“You are so romantic, dr. Blythe!” said one of the youngest ones. Gilbert just felt he was blushing more and more. It was all Fred’s fault, all this business.

“I’m going to get a coffee. See you later?” he said, standing up. He still had some salad, but he was done with this conversation and just wanted to vanish from the staff room. Fred got up as well, popping the rest of his sandwich into his mouth.

“I’m coming, Blythe, Timmies?” he passed an arm around his shoulder as Gilbert tried to get him off, shaking his head. They got out of the room, the nurses still giggling. “So, brushing, eh?”

“Oh, shut up, Wright, you so did that on purpose.”

“Of course I did. It was the cutest face you’ve ever made,” he commented, walking towards the main exit. Gilbert shook his head. “Well, it was! Might as well get used to it, Blythe, your serious reputation is transforming slowly but surely in this place.”

“Only because of your comments. Honest, would you mind just helping me appear professional?"

“Being a romantic, gone sap and being professional are compatible, Blythe. I’m just happy seeing you happy,” Fred commented. “How’s the headache going?” he asked, referencing the one Gilbert had been nursing before lunch.

“Got better, actually. I don’t think it’s any kind of sugar issue, but… I don’t know, they keep coming like clockwork.”

“Told you, it’s your eyesight old doc. You keep squinting in that computer in your office,” Fred commented.

“Oh, shut it and order me some coffee, will you? I’ll meet you in a minute,” Gilbert answered, as they arrived at the entrance of the coffee shop. Fred nodded, going inside, and he took his phone out.

**Gilbert Blythe (12:25): Are you doing it on purpose, Carrots?

**Carrots (12:26): Contrary to what you may think, I don’t read minds. Yet. Training with Robert and Gertrude, but it’s going slow 🪴 

**Gilbert Blythe (12:26): They are plants, Anne-girl. They don’t have thoughts.

**Carrots (12:26): Shoot. There you have it then 🙃

**Gilbert Blythe (12:26): Saw your picture. I can’t believe I get to kiss you when I get home. Seems unreal.

**Carrots (12:26): Can’t believe it either. 

**Carrots (12:26): That you kiss me. That is.

**Gilbert Blythe (12:27): You do strange things to me, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. Can’t wait to get there and kiss that little space behind your ear. 

**Carrots (12:27): !!

**Carrots (...)

**Gilbert Blythe (12:28): Trail kisses around your jaw…

**Carrots (...)

**Carrots (12:28): Don’t you work, Slateface? I have a chat with dr. Patel in about two minutes and I can’t get distracted by your teasing now. I’ll wait for you here 😉

Slateface? She’ll wait for him at home? Wink? What? Work?

“Ready, Blythe?” Fred asked, a coffee on each hand. Gilbert nodded, and received his, not able to shake an unbelieving, yet mischievous and satisfied smile from his face. “If possible, you seem even more unsettled than before, and somehow I don’t want to know the details of this anymore. That silly grin in your face looks positively dangerous.” Gilbert couldn’t contain a laugh then.

“She just called me Slateface.”

“You’re kidding right?” Fred answered. Gilbert shook his head, the same smile adorning his face. “What does that even mean, Blythe?”

“The nickname she gave me in middle school. When she finally agreed to talk to me. As  _ so I didn’t forget what teasing could result in _ or some rubbish like that. I’ve told you the slate story before. This was just the continuation. Eventually it became a sort of teasing name, something to call me in jest. So I called her Carrots. She called me Slateface. It was a truce.”

“You're actually being serious, aren’t you?”

“Completely. So whenever she used Slateface on me… I already knew she had something wicked in mind. Or was in a beyond teasing mood. She hadn’t used it all these months… and I hadn't even thought of it until it appeared on my screen,” Gilbert explained, the smile and longing in his eyes way too evident, apparently, as two of the student nurses giggled while looking at him. He didn’t even notice.

“You look so positively endearing, Blythe, your reputation is going to be ruined in two weeks tops. Straight face, you can do it, the most serious doctor in town,” Fred told him, and Gilbert laughed again. He couldn’t wait to be home and show her what her teasing did to him.

Anne was nervous in the afternoon. After having published the post and the video (and receiving annoyed messages from Jerry), she hadn’t expected Gilbert’s comment. Even less his message. When she had started her session with dr. Patel, she had done so in a flustered state that had prompted all sorts of conversations with his therapist, about her fears and expectations and what was really holding her back- or not. About trust. They had already talked about Daniel and Lincoln extensively some days before and she understood how different what she had with Gilbert was. And that had prompted her thinking about… going somewhere further with Gilbert. Maybe. Maybe today?

After talking with him and with Patel, she was curious. She wanted to see it for herself. And she trusted Gilbert implicitly to do this with him. That would not change today or in a year, if she decided to wait that long. Gilbert would never harm her, it was with him that she could be most herself. When she was fifteen and now. The trust they had among the two of them was not comparable to the one she had with her other closest friends- he had always been apart, somehow, and that allowed for this… option, for this possibility. To explore not only friendship, but love and intimacy as well. He had never been really only a friend.

So if anyone was going to ever help her feel at ease to navigate the possibilities of her body, not on its own, but as a partner, as an equal, it was Gilbert. No one else she could trust. There was no other man on earth with whom she could embark on this, who could understand her and not judge her.

Anne bit her lip as she re-read the exchange of texts after he had written to her, before her appointment.  _ Slateface. _ What had she been thinking? She hadn’t even thought as she wrote it, the message flowing naturally after many other attempts that felt wrong, somehow. This one had felt right. But he had not answered anything yet. Maybe she had gone too far? It just… there had been a playful something in the conversation before. And then his bold comments. What did he expect?

But she would not insist and would not bother him at the hospital, texting him to see if she had said something wrong- if Slateface was now somehow vetoed. She read for a bit, still her hair up from the morning, the same shorts and flowy, silky green blouse for the hot summer day- she preferred to open the windows and let the air flow than to lock herself with the AC turned on full force. She watered the plants, talked with them some. And then decided that a lot of time must surely have gone by and she could see her phone again.

**Gil (15:58): Carrots- I can’t wait to be home. Will you really be waiting? 

Anne blushed not really knowing why, seeing the message he had sent over half an hour before. Well, she was going to be waiting. It was not like she ever went somewhere far. But she felt like his words implied something more. She went to see herself in the mirror. She looked like plain old Anne with lived-in updo after reading lying down on the sofa for far too long. But it didn’t look bad, not really, just not… like the formal hairstyle she had taught Diana.

She remembered the afternoon after he had drawn her the bath, when he had touched her. Watching herself in the mirror, she could almost draw in her reflection the place where he had been, and it made her blush even more. That had felt so good… and yet she had stopped short. Today she would not, if they found themselves in that same situation. His hands on her breasts… on her hard nipples.. Maybe, just maybe, could she take her bra off? Would that be too forward? Well, she didn’t lose anything by seeing how it looked.

The green blouse wasn’t very sheer, and it was flowy and silky. Seeing her reflection again, it made almost no difference, she thought. She knew she wasn’t particularly beautiful by any common standard- she was particular, and freckly, and pale. Homely, they would have said in another time. But she wasn’t ugly either and Gilbert always made her think she was somehow more beautiful than she thought.

She sighed, and put the bra on again. Maybe she wasn’t ready for that yet. 

Maybe she was? Wouldn’t that be a good… a direct way to let him know she wanted to be touched? She bit her lips and took it off again, putting it away on the closet and going back to her book on puppetry for storytelling. Oh well, it was decided, right? It was way more comfortable to be braless, anyway, if she was being honest. The things were all wiry and... She kept reading, putting on her earphones to muffle the noise of the street below, and wrote down some things she wanted to order to make her first felt puppets.

> _ From:  _ _ anne_shirleycuthbert@gmail.com _
> 
> _ To:  _ _ kakwet1990@hotmail.com _
> 
> _ Subject: Re: Are you ok?! _
> 
> My dearest kindred spirit
> 
> Yes. Everything is going better. I actually had my fourth session today with dr. Patel. He’s a dear and really makes me feel like this could potentially have an end. Again- sorry for worrying you the other night. I wasn’t in a right state of mind and just needed to hear someone who would understand. I’ve been talking with dr. Patel about the orphanage… But also about Lincoln and Daniel. It’s been hard… coming to terms with everything. But also liberating, even if I can just see the full scope of what it means. I’m curious about what can happen, what can develop with Gilbert now. He actually asked me to be his girlfriend… And I felt like a teen, because who does that at our age? Teen me just melted and adult me just feels how right this is. Like I can be myself because he has seen me at my worst and know he will always help me get on my two feet.
> 
> Anyway. I’ll tell you more later. I also have a couple more stories for you and your family to review, they’re attached to this email as well as the older ones with the corrections in them. I added notes where it wasn’t clear what you meant.
> 
> I love you as always.
> 
> Melkita’ulamun

Gilbert greated Anne as he came into the house, but received no answer. He washed his hands first and then went to look for her. Walking around in socks, he saw her concentrating on something at the dining room table, a notepad on her side, her back to him. She was still wearing the same blouse she had on the picture, and had kept the same hairstyle, but it looked messier, more her. Being all prim and proper, not a hair out of line, was not really very Anne-like. Having some kind of complicated braid half undone, lived in, that was her. He smiled again, as he had been doing the whole day (Fred making fun of him even in the parking lot as they parted ways). 

He went quietly over to where she was and noticed she was listening to something on her phone, which explained why she had ignored him before. He hugged her from behind, giving her a soft kiss in the nape of her neck just where the updo left some free space. He hoped not to startle her, and smiled softly as she turned over surprised, but happy.

“You’re back!” she exclaimed, taking off the earphones. He bent down to kiss her lightly. And then saw her list of materials and the book, one of the last he had recommended thinking she would like it- a mix of story-telling, pedagogy and DIY.

“I am, yes. How are you?” he asked, chuckling, massaging her shoulders lightly, forgetting about the images that had plagued his mind the whole afternoon. He had been imagining everything he was going to do to her as soon as he crossed the door, but now that he had, he felt at ease, in peace, just by being close to her.

“Good. It has been a good day. I just lost track of time…”

“I can see that. What were you listening to?” he asked, curious. He always wanted to know her music. She always had discovered the best groups, so it had been a no-brainer that she was in charge of the playlist for the Montreal trip. He suggested songs when they came to his mind, but it was really her masterpiece. She showed him the blocked screen.  _ Stand Still,  _ Sabrina Claudio _. _ He frowned. “Never heard of her,” he commented.

“What? But she has the nicest voice!” Anne said, handing him one of the earplugs and putting the other. He leaned in, to be within the length of the cable, as she put the song from the beginning, the musical introduction beginning. After a moment he couldn’t help himself and offered her his hand, inviting her to get up, while they continued to listen. “What? Gil…”

“Shh… I want to dance with you,” he whispered, pocketing her phone in his back pocket, holding her close to him as they moved slowly through the living room, as he leaded her slowly, enjoying the music. Anne lost herself in his embrace, closing her eyes, the music on one ear, Gilbert’s calm breath in the other, his chest so close to her. She felt his steady, warm hand on the lower part of her back, guiding her slowly, while the other one caressed her waist slowly. Up and down. Up and down.

Anne opened her eyes and met his gaze, intense but soft at the same time, so focused on her as if nothing else existed in the moment, the colours of his eyes standing out in the sunlight. Bit of green. A bit of gold. A bit of brown. All mixing together in their perfect combination of his hazel eyes. She swallowed, looking briefly at his mouth, almost feeling how he inhaled as she did so. 

The silence of the afternoon enveloped them, only the small string of music heard by them. Everything seemed quiet, but both of them knew it really was not. Gilbert looked at her, her blue eyes full of anticipation, almost as much as he felt his own transmitted. When the song died and the next one started, he leaned forward and kissed her slowly, enveloping first her upper lips, tasting slowly as he sucked lightly on it. A bit of a teasing, small nibble, his tongue giving her a caress as she parted her lips, letting him savour every bit of her mouth. 

His hands held her close to him, caressing her waist under the fabric, feeling the soft skin of her back as the new music enveloped them in the intimacy of the earphones. She sighed into the kiss, realizing how much she had longed for it since that wicked message he had sent at midday, and tangled her fingers within his curls. Gilbert guided her slowly, the music leading them, towards the nearest wall, pinning her against it, feeling all the curves she had allowed him to. He broke the kiss.

“I have been waiting for this moment since you posted that photo,” he whispered in her ear. She blushed, the feeling of his muscles against her, of his general warmth and steadiness, making something flutter inside her.

“I never thought you would see it,” she answered, her voice barely a whisper so breathless she was.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Carrots. I always see everything you post. Read everything you write… about being talented with a brush… and stuff…” he whispered, still hovering over her. She chuckled, not wanting him to move, breathing his unique scent.

“It was totally not a message to you,” she said quietly as he kissed her jawline slowly. Only it had been and she knew it. She had hoped for some kind of reaction- which she had gotten, twice.

“Oh, but I think you did…” he answered, knowing her better than most. “I think you were thinking about the other day,” he continued in between kisses, his hands resting on her waist, under the soft fabric of her blouse. Her skin felt warm and soft under his hands and he caressed it lightly. She tried not to think of the fact she had not gotten the chance to put on the bra again, even though she had thought about it more often than not. She tried not to think of the way she already felt warm in her shorts. And how maybe this really was about the other day and how she was curious about where this could go today.

“I… I was...,” she couldn’t really lie, but she couldn’t form a coherent sentence either. He chuckled.

“I think you were doing it on purpose, Anne-girl,” he whispered to her ear, his voice already a bit hoarse, before nibbling her lobe and making her inhale sharply, the unexpected sensation going down as she felt herself getting more turned on by the second, the combination of the slow music, his voice and his touch getting to her as she breathed the scent that was so gilberty. “I think you wanted me to come to you…” he said, his hands roaming higher, expecting to find the boundary of her bra but instead finding the expanse of her skin. Had she… not worn anything under that blouse for her video? Had she taken it off before he finished working? He put a little distance to look at her. Wide, dilated eyes, mouth parted, need in her expression. He closed his eyes, not sure if he could actually handle looking at her. She saw as he clenched his jaw and swallowed, as if he was bracing himself to do something difficult. He leaned forward, but instead of kissing her again, as her parting lips had been expecting, he went for her ear. “Carrots… Have you any idea of what you’re doing to me?” he whispered quietly, his voice strained and raspy, as if it was physically hard to get the words out. She swallowed.

“I… Gil,” she murmured, as she was at a loss of how she could be the source of that state, and only knew she needed him.

Gilbert retreated, opening his eyes, his pupils wide and his eyes so loving. She felt his hands leave her body and felt suddenly unstable, but then he offered them, palms up his eyes still on her. She accepted the offer and followed him to the bedroom, to the bed. If she really had no bra and that meant she had the intention of at least repeating the other day, he wanted to be on a bed with her. Not on the narrow sofa. He pulled the phone off his pocket and took out the earplugs, putting play on the phone so the music surrounded them, and left the phone on the nightstand.

Anne looked at the bed and bit her lip, unsure all of a sudden of what she was really ready for. She wanted more. She wanted to explore. She wanted to see how great it could be. But she wasn’t sure of how far she wanted to take it that day. And the bed seemed to encompass too many expectations. Gilbert sensed her hesitation.

“We’re not doing anything you’re not ready for, Anne-girl. I just want you to be comfortable as I kiss you senseless, how does that sound?” he said, winking, and she laughed, the tension leaving as he fondly caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. That could happen. Kisses were good. She went over to the bed, feeling more playful now, bringing him by the suspenders, and he loved even more his choice of apparel than what he already did. She laid down on her side, pulling him with her as she kissed him hotly, now that she knew he wasn’t expecting much of this encounter, much more relaxed.

Gilbert kissed her back, his hand roaming down her blouse, caressing her breast lightly, feeling her lips react in need. She wanted more, it would seem, and her hands soon were pushing down the suspenders off his shoulders. He chuckled and took them off, pulling his shirt out of his pants.

“Off- take it off,” she said. 

“Bossy today?” he asked teasingly, but did as she asked and then saw how she tentatively moved a hand to touch the side of his neck, below his ear. Since the other day, she had wanted to do more. To touch him and see if it was real how much her touch had an effect on him. As she caressed him, she saw him narrow his eyes, exhaling slowly as if to steady himself. She trailed her hand slowly, moving along the length of his collarbone and down to his chest, feeling his heart beat quickly under her hand.

Anne moved forward and kissed him on the chest, seeing how he inhaled sharply, his heart under her lips. She gave him little bites and open-mouthed kisses, making him hitch in response, a moan escaping his throat. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert somehow knew every button in his body and was torturing him in the most delicious of ways. He brushed her nipple with a finger, feeling how it went hard under his touch. She whimpered a bit. 

“You like that, don’t you, Anne-girl?” He bent over a little to get as close as he could to her ear. “Every little noise you make turns me on, Carrots,” he whispered hoarsely and she went on to lick his collarbone. “Goodness, Anne,” he couldn’t help but say, feeling his hips jerk forward. He wanted her closer and took his hand to her back, under her blouse, moving a finger slowly through her spine.

Anne whimpered again, wanting to feel more of him, wanting to feel him on her skin. She took his hands slowly and moved them as gently as she could towards her breasts. Gilbert looked at her in the eyes as he touched her, his hand eliciting more caught breaths in her throat, a faster breathing in her. The silky fabric was becoming annoyingly cumbersome. Feeling resolved, she let go of his hands and extended her arms, a gesture so direct and universal he leaned in to kiss her before letting go of her breasts to pull slowly the green fabric over her head, letting it fall at the side of the bed. 

Gilbert was still half propped on his side as Anne laid on her back, her chest exposed, an open invitation. He watched at her, admiring every curve of her body, how she had freckles even where he wouldn’t have dared imagined. Her breasts round, probably just average to an impartial judge but so perfect for him, who had imagined them for years. The nipples erect, areola a pinkish brown. She looked at him, worried by his examination.

“Gil?”

“You are so beautiful, Anne,” he declared, looking at her directly in the eyes, noticing how she left out a sight. “So incredibly, amazingly beautiful,” he insisted, leaning forward to kiss her as slowly as he had in the living room, taking care of each lip, sucking them calmly, softly, but never relenting, until he felt her squirm under him. He moved as he kissed her, hovering over her, supporting himself in his forearms, but she still felt his presence all over her body as he softly bit her lips, asking for an entrance that could never be denied. Their tongues battling in a kiss as much as they did when speaking, the kiss deepened until Gilbert retreated a few inches to watch her breathless, her lips full, swollen by what he had just done to them.

Anne watched as he moved towards her again and braced herself for another kiss, but then he moved towards her neck, giving it a playful lick, a nibble that made her whimper. He went over her ear. “I want to hear every little noise you have stored for me, Anne,” Gilbert murmured hoarsely and went back to her collarbone, eliciting the smallest of moans. He took it as a challenge as he continued at a slow, tortuous pace down her chest and over her breasts. The nipples still erect, expecting him. Anne tried looking at him, but then let her head burrow in the soft pillow, watching the smooth ceiling above her as he blew a cold breath over one of her breasts. He saw as the nipple contracted even more, and smiled satisfied as she whimpered.

“How does that feel, Anne-girl?” he murmured against her skin, his tongue circling slowly the areola before he took in the nipple in his mouth, making her moan louder than before, a ripple of energy go down to her chore, her hips looking for something, her whole body jerking forward, so much feeling she almost told him to get off because it was too much. Only it wasn’t- it was not nearly enough, she realised. “You like this, don’t you?” he insisted, moving to suck the other nipple, a bit harder than the previous one, gaining a new moan from her, even louder than the one before. She felt like she was losing it. Any control she ever had escaping as Gilbert worked his way over her.

Anne tried pulling him closer, wrapping one leg around his and trying to push him forward. Her hands going to the hem of his pants, not daring yet to open them, but wanting to feel what was there. She touched where she knew his erection was and felt him hiss against her skin.

“Is this.. do you like… is this good?” she asked, uncertainty evident in her stutter. Gilbert blinked, trying to get in control of his body. He didn’t want this to be about him. Not yet, anyway. He wanted Anne to feel confident, first. But also, he didn’t want her to feel like she was doing anything unwelcome, anything bad, not when she was taking any initiative.

“I… Anne, yes,” he answered anyway, but then brought her face to his, kissing her deeply, as she continued to touch him. “I love that, Carrots,” he insisted, but his hand went to meet hers and guided it to his waist. She looked at him, confused. Was that good or not, then? “I want today to be more about you than about me,” he explained.

“But…”

“No buts, sweet girl,” he said, silencing her with a kiss, his hand still on her breast, still feeling how she tried to bring him closer. The other day, when she wanted to be touched, she had asked him to take off his shirt. Maybe today...

He moved off from her, lying again in his side, regaining control of his arms as he no longer needed them to support himself. She looked at him, her breathing fast, her heart pounding so hard he could see her left breast move rhythmically. He watched her in the eyes, as he took one hand to caress her. From her cheek, cupping it softly. Holding the lobe of her ear for a moment only. Tracing down her neck, her collarbone. Cupping her breast and toying with her nipple as she whimpered, her body squirming. Making abstract patterns in her belly, watching how her muscles contracted and every single tiny strawberry blond hair stood erect in anticipation. Getting closer to the hem of her shorts, watching her blush go past her cheeks, down her neck, as his fingers and his nails teased her lightly.

Anne closed her eyes, not able anymore to handle both what her body was feeling and his unwavering gaze. She tried, again, to control her breathing. She lost the battle one more time. As much as he wanted it to be about her, it was becoming harder for Gilbert to continue, his arousal growing by the moment as he saw her mouth parting.

Finally, he let his hand go down to touch the surface of her short, a soft linen fabric in dark blue, close to her crotch area, ever so lightly. “May I…?” She nodded, swallowing, conscious about what was probably about to happen. His hand put some more pressure and he looked at her in the eyes, gauging what she was feeling. She took in a shaky breath, closing her eyes. “How does this feel, Carrots? To have my hand over you?” she swallowed again. “Tell me, Carrots, you like this?” He forced himself to keep talking, his voice strained as he felt how warm she was under the fabric, a slight moisture getting through the thin linen. She had to be so wet for the outer fabric to feel like this. So incredibly wet.

She tried to answer, but only a nonsensical whimper came out of her mouth. He moved his fingers slightly in a half circle, not relieving any pressure, and then stopped to see her eyes open again. Even darker. Anne half moaned, half groaned, frustrated. She needed that. More of that. Closer. But he was going to go slow. He knew intuitively that he was the first to touch her this way, other than herself. And he was going to do it only as she allowed herself to feel.

“Anne-girl, you like this?” he insisted, his hand still there, but so still. She tried moving against it, but he just moved with her, not allowing any need to be satisfied. He needed her talking. Communicating. “Tell me in your words, Carrots, talk to me.” Gilbert wanted Anne to speak, to tell him what she liked, and how, and to make her feel important enough to know that what she wanted was as valued, more important than him. He moved his hand only slightly for just a fraction of a second, eliciting a new moan from her but no more answers. “Speak, dear girl. Tell me. You like my hand on you?” he continued, his voice still hoarse as he got closer to her, his hand still as he kissed her jaw, nibbling on it. She was still as well, still but squirming, still but breathing raggedly, fighting with herself.

“Yes,” was all she could say, the only word that came into her mind and that she could pronounce.

“You want me to touch you?” Gilbert asked, moving slightly again, his other hand feeling her breast. Anne whimpered again, her hips moving against his hand. Why did he stop? What did he want? What could she do to relieve this? She tried moving again, but it was as if he read her mind as he moved with her. “Voice it, Carrots. Tell me what you want,” he insisted, a duel against her inhibition. See who would win. Her needs and her desire, or whatever had happened to her before that limited her so much.

“Gil… yes,” she moaned. She sought strength to keep speaking as he didn’t budge, expectant. “Don’t… stop.”

“As you wish, love,” he answered, before kissing her deeply as his fingers moved again. He moved his hand, now only two fingers pressing against her center, not stopping this time, moving in circles above the fabric of her shorts, that was becoming increasingly wet with her moisture and the friction. His other hand playing with her hard nipple. He broke the kiss and saw her eyes, dark with need, her breathing ragged, her hips thrusting to his hand. Oh god, this felt so good.

Anne tried touching him, her hand going to his back, to his arm, not really knowing what to do with herself. Caressing the nape of his neck as he hissed into her ear, her touch bringing fire to him even when he was trying to concentrate on her. Only he couldn’t, because concentrating on her meant watching and feeling her, and that in itself turned him on more than anything else he had experienced before.

“You are so wet, Anne… So good… Goodness, were you able to look at you…”, he murmured, going back to her neck, his hand maintaining the same constant, insistent pace as he felt how her breathing slowly became even more erratic, her movements losing direction as she tensed more and more.

“Gil… I…” she knew she was close. She had been here before. On this edge. Afraid to jump outside the privacy of her loneliness. Gilbert noticed her lust, how it was on the verge of overcoming her, but how she still could not let go.

“You feel it, don’t hold it, Carrots,” he strained to say, before kissing her quickly once more. Anne would have stopped by now, if she was the only one moving. She willed her hips to stop, and they actually diminished the pace. But Gilbert noticed that and he was having none of it. He felt she wanted this, but was, again, unsure of it. Limiting herself, once more. “Go for it, dear,” he mumbled in her ear, his hand unrelenting, picking up the pace as he felt her fight with something bigger. “Go… Release.”

Anne really tried. She tried to hold it with all her might, because that’s all she knew. But Gilbert’s word in his ear, his hand just working her on, no break, no pause, the need she had felt for days condensating in this very moment… She couldn’t. She exploded in a climax she had never imagined before, moan after moan as her body contorted with sensation, with release, with bliss, her heart about to explode.

It kept going and going, even when Gilbert’s hand kept moving, pacing down his movements slowly as she rode out the roller coaster of energy he had brought her to, trying to hold her as her body bolted more than he could ever have imagined, as if it had a life of its own and she had no say in it anymore. Her back arching in a new spasm it had not known before, her head deep into the pillow, her eyes squeezed shut because she couldn’t hold them open as the world collapsed around her. He stopped completely only when he felt she was done and she breathed into his shoulder, his scent everywhere, trying to regain her breath but failing for several minutes.

Only by watching her, he almost came himself. So powerful it was.

“What… what did just…. was that…” she asked, incoherently, some minutes later. He chuckled lovingly, interlacing a hand with hers, the other going to caress her cheek, to wipe some sweat from her forehead. That had been way stronger than anything she had accomplished on her own.

“That was an orgasm, Anne-girl. That’s how it’s supposed to be,” he answered, kissing her forehead. “And this was only the tip of the iceberg, I promise,” he said softly on her ear, breathing her scent and bringing her closer to him.

“It was… it… I…” she was at a loss of words, nothing sufficiently encompassing, no word descriptive enough, strong enough.

“I know,” he answered, hugging her close as she sighed into his chest. He let out his breath slowly as well, as he felt her breathe deeply, finally. “Let’s stay like this for a while, eh? Take a moment,” he proposed, a hand caressing her hair slowly, soothingly. She nodded and breathed his scent in, relaxing. So that’s what she’d been missing? He sighed, relaxing. Seeing her find some release had been even more satisfying than doing it himself.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert's obsession with Anne's hair is kind of weird, but a bit endearing. Apparently he couldn't get over it (how could he?)... And Fred just knows it.   
> What was your favorite part? What do you think will happen on Saturday? Tell us your theories! We really enjoy reading them and seeing who gets details right or not.  
> Also, as a final note... Yes, Jerry and Diana speak French. No, Anne doesn't get what they say because she doesn't speak the language. So... if you don't either, don't worry about it. Anne can live without knowing, so do you. Or you can google translate if you're that curious (or turn to your french-speaking friend) ;)  
> We'll see you in a couple of days!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning, everyone!  
> So, ready for Montreal? The big old road trip and that playlist Anne was preparing so happily? Well, you're in for a treat today! If you don't have a headache ;)  
> On a completely irrelevant side note, I'm still bingeing House (and writing exciting, doubts-solving stuff with Hikari). We're trying to reply to all comments with time and everything, and we keep talking and looking up useless information such as Wilson's age and House's parents first name. Ever wondered? John House and Blythe House gave birth to baby Greg. Yes, read that again. It's useless and hilarious.  
> Anyway, let's start the music and the fun! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7mA9ruYSCjSnsUnHHAfIQ4?si=btoFHdGbQuy25bqIIAvqxQ

“Are you seriously wearing that?” Gilbert asked. He didn’t consider himself a jealous guy. Not really. He knew that Anne was way too much for him and that he really didn’t deserve her, but also knew that if she didn’t want to be with him she simply would not be. But this was something else. “Carrots, honestly, it looks just as if you’re walking around naked in just my t-shirt,” he said. She frowned, unbelieving, and laughed.

“Of course not. It wouldn’t make sense. It’s obvious I have shorts under, and I want to be comfortable. We’re going to the beach, not to a parade. Plus, you told me it wasn’t even a popular beach and it’s the middle of the week, most likely it’s deserted,” she said, not paying him any attention. She had grabbed one of his soft white t-shirts, claiming it was way better than any of the ones she had, and put it on. It was long, yes, but soft. And it was not her fault he had grown so tall, when he was sixteen his t-shirts were just the perfect size for her.

“Anne, really?” he tried again. She shook her head, rolling her eyes.

“Seriously, Gil. Come on! It’s going to be late and I want to enjoy the day!” she said opening the door, even when it was already almost midday. They had woken up late on the last day before going to Montreal and stayed in bed for far longer than they used to, just enjoying each other's company and cuddling as each read their preferred book.

Gilbert had proposed the beach trip almost as an afterthought, feeling that the day was slipping away. So they had gotten up, Anne had prepared some picnic food on a pinch while he looked for a blanket he was sure Mary had left on some previous visit and they were on the way to the door when he realized that no, Anne was not going to change into clothes of her own.

He bit his lips. For all he felt uncomfortable, it was not his place to say anything. Especially when she felt good. Following her, Gilbert closed the door behind and they walked to the car and drove, adding the last couple of songs to the playlist for the road trip. Tomorrow they would be halfway there by that time. Oh, how he wanted to see Delly and give her the present he had selected so carefully. And hug Mary. And tease Bash. And just be with them and with Anne.

“I thought you were kidding, but this has to be actually secluded if you’re calling that a parking lot,” Anne commented, grabbing a backpack as he took the blanket and the heavy bag with the food and the beverages. She was referring to a small lot where not three cars would fit, only a small sign.

“I’m not one for crowds, you know that,” he commented softly. She nodded. “Plus, it’s a bit of a walk to get to the water. I thought you’d enjoy it.” She squeaked, going towards the small path between the trees. They walked in easy silence until they arrived at an opening from where the lake could already be seen. “Just like ten minutes more and we’ll be there.”

“It’s so nice. The heat doesn’t make sense, but there’s the promise of water… Remember how we used to dip on the beach near Avonlea?” Anne asked him. He smiled at the memory.

“Water was freezing there. I still don’t get how we kept going all the way to late September. Now I understand our parents.”

“We always wanted to go for your birthday, and we didn’t want summer to end,” she explained. “So that’s why we didn’t care about going to the beach when it was only 15 degrees outside and the water temperature at freezing unknown. Oh, Gil, it’s so beautiful.”

“It is,” he acquiesced.

“And you were worried about anyone looking at my choice of clothes? Even if I cared about what anyone thought, which I don’t, mind you, we haven’t seen a soul. There was no one else in the parking lot. We’re all alone here,” she said, dropping her backpack on the coarse sand, kicking her sandals and running to the water until it reached her knees. He laughed and stayed behind, extending the picnic blanket and unpacking some of the things they had brought. “You’re not coming? It’s so refreshing!”

“I will! You brought anything to change into later, if you’re going in there like that?” he asked.

“I… didn’t, actually. I just have dr. Blythe’s unapproved clothing on me” she commented, and he laughed. She walked back to where he was sitting on the blanket, already only in his shorts, and sat beside him.

“I approve of all your clothes, Carrots. That I prefer to enjoy them by myself sometimes is something else entirely,” he said, admiring her. She stuck her tongue out to him, playfully. He laughed. “And that’s your answer?”

“Of course it is. As mature as your argument,” she replied, a big smile on her face. She felt so relaxed in that precise moment, knowing they were in nature, away from privy eyes, in their small patch of summery heaven. They stayed in the blanket for a while, Anne even snapping some pictures.

“Come! Water really is nice,” she insisted, going back to the water and this time going all the way in.

“How is it?” he got up, going to the edge, just before the waves licked his toes.

“Frigid! Come here and hug me!” she answered, some three meters into the lake. He shook his head, but did as ordered, the shock of the temperature surprising even when expected. He walked over to where she was, half floating, her red hair pooling around her. She stood up when he was close, her cheeks flushed from the heat and the cold water, her eyes bright. “Isn’t it marvellously refreshing?”

“It is,” he answered, walking over to where she was and extending his arms. “So you wanted me to hug out the cold?”

“I wanted you to come in,” she explained, a mischievous grin on her face.

“Oh, really, Carrots? You made me come in here by guise?” she nodded, still grinning. He walked closer to her, her mischief still reflected on her expression. “I think I might as well warm you up, now that I’m here. Water is freezing, you know?” he teased, catching her as she melted in giggles and tickling her mercilessly. She exploded in laughter until she managed to scurry away from him and proceeded to splash him. They played in the water like kids for a while, until he managed to attack her with tickles again, this time not letting her go as easily.

“Truce!” she said between laughter. “Truce, Gil!” she insisted.

“And how would you spell that?” he asked laughing, not letting her go, reversing to the game they had as teens. No truce was valid unless you could actually spell the word. If you couldn’t, it was better to just surrender. Something neither of them, stubborn and proud as they were, ever did.

“T...R…” she dissolved in a fit of laughter again but forced herself to continue. “UCE!

“What? You have to actually say the letters, Carrots!” he teased as she contorted, her stomach hurting so much she was laughing.

“T-R-U-C-E!” she repeated, vocalizing as best as she could but speaking as fast as was possible, managing to do the spelling between two fits of laughter. He let her go, but she was still in between laughter, not able to contain herself. “You’ll see, Slateface! No fair pulling out the spelling!” she finally said, her breath steadier, her face hurting from grinning so much.

“Not fair, Carrots? Fair by all means!” he defended himself, a mock offended face, his eyes merry. She swatted him playfully.

“Let’s go have something to eat. I’m ravenous,” she declared, swimming towards the shore. Gilbert followed her, in a better mood than he remembered in a long time. And these past few weeks he had been pretty happy, all things considered.

They wrapped themselves in the soft towels, sharing the sandwiches, cut up fruit and salad Anne had packed before resting on their back, talking animatedly as only the rush of play, hot sun and cold water could awake on them. They felt alive and younger, as if they were not nearing the thirties but instead were living their twenties together, as they had been meant to do.

Anne was relaxing on her back, half covered by her towel, her simple dark green two piece making her skin glow under the shade of the tree where he had extended the blanket. Gilbert decided to pick up everything when they were done, having more peace of mind knowing he was not leaving anything behind in the forest. He saw her, eyes closed, forehead relaxed, wildflower crown on her damp hair, slight smile on her lips.

Smiling wickedly as a plan formed in his mind, he picked a long stem full of bright white wild carrot flowers that was close by and sat beside her. He caressed her stomach lightly with the tiny flowers. Anne tried to swat it half heartedly, probably thinking it a fly, and he laughed silently. Watching her little hairs stand up as her skin got more sensitive, he trailed the flowers up her stomach, all the way to the base of her breasts. She opened her eyes, lifting her head and finding his bright eyes focused on her.

“Gilbert, what on earth…?”

“Shh…. just a carrot saying hi to a carrot,” he whispered.

“You prat! That’s Queen Anne’s lace!” she said, annoyed. Had he not gone over it in all this time?

“Wild carrot saying hi to another wild carrot,” he conceded, as if that was just what she had said. “Look how it’s awakening, already…” he mumbled, as he passed slowly the flowers over where her nipple would be, watching it stiffen under the still wet fabric. He swallowed, watching it. “See?”

“You tease, Slateface,” she mumbled, trying to ignore the light touch, taking her hands to her face and rubbing it before covering her eyes with her forearm. Because it wasn’t tickly. Not really. It was just tingling. He chuckled, the light touch of the flowers starting to send shivers down her spine, some familiar heat gathering down. Slowly. Almost unrecognizable.

“Your inner carrot is liking this much more than what you care to admit,” he teased.

“My inner carrot wants to show you who’s boss with the slates,” she countered, but was smiling underneath her arm. “I was actually starting to fall asleep.”

“Fall asleep?” he repeated. Anne nodded, feeling relaxed and content despite Gilbert’s teasing. “What about you don’t?”

“Why, do you have any other plans? Non-ticklish plans, preferably?” she asked, lifting her arms slightly to see him, and found his eyes piercing through hers, as he dragged the flowers over her breasts. Slowly. Images of the day before crossed her mind. “Gil…” she whispered, blushing deeply at what she thought his eyes transmitted. Was he actually serious? He smiled playfully, noticing her red tinge.

“Well, I have no idea what crossed your mind, Carrots, but please share,” he said, a low voice. He had thought about maybe kissing her. But that blush? That was definitely not a kissing blush.

Anne bit her lips. After seeing what was possible… She was curious as to if it was actually possible to achieve that more than one time in a lifetime. And she felt more confident after how Gilbert had been with her, and after their closeness only increasing after that. No cold shoulder. Only more holding, more kisses, more intimacy. This was good. But they were in the middle of the forest and certainly that wasn’t the place for anything… right?

“Anne?” Gilbert asked again, confused, noticing her conflicted lip-biting. But then he saw as she sat up and went towards him, tangling her fingers in his curls and kissing him briefly. She smiled.

“Last one on the water pays the other an ice cream!” she exclaimed and scurried off to the lake, sure that the best way to dispel the way she was feeling was just going into the frigid water. Gilbert shook his head, his ears barely registering what she had said while his body just sensed the anticipation she had elicited and the void she had left. “Come on, Gil!” 

Gilbert followed her, catching her in his arms as he got into the water, laughing. She looked at him in the eyes, all myrth, but something else as well. She didn’t try to move, to escape, and he didn’t tickle this time, instead putting some wet hair behind her ear, causing a shiver to go down her as he traced his fingers down her chin. He leaned forward slowly, catching her lips in a kiss. Licking her bottom lip, as she nibbled on his upper one, the movements calm, persistent, holding her nape just so, his other hand caressing her waist. Hers on his hair, on his cheeks, tracing down his neck.

“Now this is a real kiss, Carrots,” he teased, his voice a bit hoarse, when they finally got apart. She didn’t answer, just pulling him down to her again, relishing in how he felt, the warm sun, the water that really didn’t feel cold at all anymore. Letting the hand he had on her waist roam lower, towards her bottom, then towards her thigh, his other hand going down her other leg. He flexed his legs slightly and pushed her upwards, her ankles crossing behind him as he held her.

As she whimpered, he felt himself grow harder and decided he really did not want this on the water. Breaking the kiss so he could see where he was actually stepping, she kissed his neck, nibbling on it and turning him on even more. Feeling him underneath her, his skin and his muscles, all warm and firm against her torso, she knew she was getting as wet as the other day, lake water aside. She tried moving, feeling how hard he was beneath the swimsuit, so close to where she was. He hissed, stopping mid-way towards the blanket, and kissed her deeply again, biting her lower lip as she let out a moan.

“Now let us get there, Carrots,” he whispered in her ear, continuing the few meters they had left. He got down slowly, gently leaning her on her back, trailing kisses down her breasts. Slowly, taking his time. “May I…?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“You’re sure no one…” she whispered, her previous worry coming back to her.

“Positive. I’ve never seen anyone here. And it’s Tuesday. Pandemic and all, you now?” he said quietly. She nodded, and he pushed up the upper part of her two-piece. She groaned.

“Gil, come on… If you’re doing that, do it right,” she said, a glint in her eyes, lifting her back and undoing the knot that was there, effectively taking the piece off and leaving it close. Gilbert swallowed at her boldness, not having really expected it, but watched admiringly as she leaned back, her nipples erect after the cold water. Her skin glistened with small drops of water that caught the sun’s light, freckles all over, and he felt something flutter in his stomach. He had seen her yesterday for the first time, but the play of light right now… Or probably it just was how utterly amazing she was in his eyes. Gilbert leaned down and kissed her breast, small, open mouthed kisses getting closer and closer to her nipple, her hands on his back trying to put him closer. He felt her nails scratch him teasingly, lightly, as he slowly blew over her nipple. “Gil…” she mouthed, her voice hoarser than before.

“You enjoy this, don’t you, Carrots?” he asked rhetorically, because it was so evident she did, before blowing softly again. She moaned lightly, and then he sucked her nipple, making her arch her back. He saw how one of her hands went to her free breast, grabbing it tightly, the image turning him even more. Her expressing herself being the biggest turn on of all. “Talk to me, darling girl, talk to me.”

“I… Gil…” she tried, but decided instead to pull him up so she could kiss him. He was supporting himself on a forearm, the other hand caressing her waist, the skin still damp, his legs straddling her. As they ended the kiss, she held his head with one hand on his nape, giving open mouthed kisses on the side of his neck, his hips trusting slightly forward. His lips somewhere different than her nipples and her mouth, she could get through her foggy mind and engage more. Because as earth-shattering as the day before had been, she wanted Gilbert to also feel that. Or however it was for him.

“Anne-girl…” he moaned, his forehead finding her neck, his lips her collarbone, kissing it lightly and sending shivers down her. She didn’t let up, instead alternating between nibbling and sucking, and he felt himself getting even tighter. “Heavens, Carrots, what…” he tried again, but he was really not very coherent now, not when Anne was caressing him like that, her fingernails on his nape scratching him lightly, teasingly. He felt her other hand go lower on his back, finding the hem of his shorts, and he closed his eyes in anticipation, not daring to think she would…

Toying with the wet fabric and seeing how utterly undone Gilbert was on top of her, Anne knew she was onto something. She had never imagined his composed, calm self could be reduced to half sentences and shaky breaths by kisses on the neck and a hand on his lower back. Slipping the tip of a finger in his short, tracing it along the edge towards the front, he sucked in a breath.

“Is this…” she felt the need to ask. Mainly because he always did, and she thought it was only fair that she didn’t assume when he never did. He nodded against her neck, not really able to find words, his hand still on her waist. Trying to get air, to breathe amidst the pleasure and the anticipation.

“It is, Carrots,” he forced himself to say, as she dipped her hand slowly in his shorts. It was wet from the lake, but so warm, she thought as she traced her fingers downwards, making small circles, giving small caresses. His hips hitched. “Goodness, Anne...” she nudged him some, and he understood the gesture and laid on his side next to her, her hand so close, yet so far, his hips moving forward again. He watched her eyes, questioning, insecure, but still with a determined glint on them. “What…”

“I wanted to see you,” Anne whispered, feeling much more in control of the situation now that he was a puddle beside her. When he didn’t touch her, she could actually think. But then Gilbert took his hand, the one that had been so still on her waist, and mimicked her movements. On the lower part of her belly. Small circles. Closer and closer to the fabric, making her breath become ragged now. Gilbert smiled.

“Two can play this game, darling girl,” he whispered, his voice strained, his fingernail tracing all the edge of the moist fabric, her hand going stiller. She closed her eyes and focused on her hand, moving it again, going lower, the elastic of his short digging into her wrist as she finally held him, firm, skin the softest, so warm and pulsating. “Carrots,” he hissed, feeling all his blood concentrate on her hand. Gilbert swallowed as she smiled, her fingers moving slowly towards the end. He closed his eyes. He had been on something before, but he could not remember anything as he felt her thumb circle the tip, spreading the pre-cum. Anne literally had him on her hand and his mind couldn’t form a single coherent thought. 

“Goodness, Anne, do…”, but he didn’t finish the sentence as she moved back, her hand tentative, but holding him firmly, her movement rhythmical. “Anne, I…” he tried again, but she moved and nibbled his neck, his hips thrusting into her hand, and he ended up moaning hoarsely, his eyes squeezed shut as he burrowed his face in the crook of his supporting arm. This was too much. No one could feel this much and be the same the next day. He felt himself get closer and closer, but he really did not want it, not if she hadn’t got there yet. And that was all the clarity he needed. He lifted her face to kiss her deeply, then took his hand down to go over hers, over the fabric, slowing it gently.

“Is it bad?” she asked, ashamed, ending the kiss. She had been convinced she was on the right track! He kissed her again.

“On the contrary, it’s indescribable,” he whispered to her, his mouth only a fraction of an inch away from hers as he tried to regain his breath. He could feel her breath so close to his. He let go of her hand slowly. “I don’t want to come alone,” he explained, and she blushed at the implication. “And if you kept going, that was going to happen quite soon, sweet girl.” She bit her lip, taking her hand out of his shorts as he went to kiss her on the shoulder, his hand resuming the path he had been into before, just to the edge of her fabric. He felt her breath grow shallower in anticipation.

“Gil, just…” she tried. She didn’t want him over the fabric again. She wanted to feel his fingers on her as she had felt him. To work her on. To… Gilbert lifted his gaze, his hand going over the bathing suit as the previous afternoon, interpreting her words. “No, Gil, just…” he took off his hand, scared.

“Anne, I’m so…” he apologised, retreating, but she was having none of it and held his hand.

“I want it, Gil,” she whispered, feeling the void his hand had left.

“What do you want?” he asked, suddenly worried.

“You. Your hand, just…” she answered, blushing. He suddenly understood and moved to kiss her, a silly grin, as his hand traced once again the edge of the fabric, slowly moving it down. That was what she needed. She sighed, feeling his warm fingers down her belly, going all the way to her hip, coming back even lower, moving the fabric so slowly it was almost painful.

“This is what you want, Carrots?” Gilbert asked in her ear, his hand pushing the fabric lower, finding her little red brown hairs. He pushed it down some more, and Anne lifted her bottom, wanting the thing to be off. He took on the hint and pushed it down all the way to her knees and she pushed it with her feet. “You wanted me to undress you, Anne-girl?” he asked, going down to kiss her breasts again as she moaned, his hand getting closer and closer to her center, just so slowly. He wanted to admire her, but he would have time. He just knew it. And he wanted to please her first.

“Gil, please…” she managed to say and he finally put his fingers on her center, almost coming himself as to how wet and slick it was and how she moaned at the light contact his two fingers were exerting.

“Goodness, Anne,” he hissed, closing his eyes as he started moving his fingers slowly, in circles, noticing her shallow breaths. His fingers felt her moist heat, the slickness she had somehow made because of him. How he wished to bury himself in her. “You feel so good.” 

“Gil…” she mumbled. This was not enough. Somehow, she needed more than this. More than his slow circles. More than… He watched her, need evident in her eyes. “Gil…”

“Tell me, darling girl,” he whispered, feeling how he also needed her now. Her need was his own.

“Gil… more,” Anne said, the word becoming a moan as he picked up the pace. She moaned, frustrated. She needed more. More of him. More closeness. More something. She straightened up and he started retreating his hand. “Don’t…” she told him, and he left it where it was, moving alongside her as she nudged him so he was on his back, straddling him now, only his swimwear between them. She saw as he took in a shaky breath.

He had not expected this. He had thought she was so, so close, but now he felt it was him who was close. How couldn’t he be? Anne Shirley-Cuthbert on top of him, grinding against his hardness, his hand feeling all her moisture, the other one on her breast… This was the stuff his wildest and literally wettest dreams were made of. Before he had thought about the light playing games, but… it wasn’t that. Her hair all messy on her shoulders, the freckles playin with the shadows of the leaves, the reminder drops of water glistening on her skin… And how her breasts looked from this perspective, how her skin went down smoothly to her center.... She was a dryad, but she really was the woman that had somehow plagued his dreams for most of his adult life. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Slowly, he began circling his fingers again, marvelling at how she was not containing any sound, whisper or moan any more, the surrounding nature supporting the confidence she had gained over the past few weeks, and he traced the circles them lower and lower. Her eyes on his, as she felt how hard he was beneath her. Considering earnestly for the first time how ready she was to try to have him in herself, to see if it was true it didn’t have to hurt… because she believed so, now. She believed that was a real possibility. Wanted to believe, at the very least.

Gilbert watched her in the eyes, asking a silent question as his fingers went impossibly close to her entrance. She nodded, her breathing shallow, and he allowed himself to go deeper on her. She moaned again, louder, the sensation of him inside her almost more than she could have imagined. This did not hurt. This felt good, and she wanted more, but knew not how to get more… Until she moved against him as well. Feeling his hardness under her. His fingers inside her. His thumb circling her center. Everything at the same time as she thrusted on his hand. 

“Gil, I… Gil…” she tried talking, but it was too hard. She was too close now, and this time she recognized not only the feeling, but what was coming. Gilbert could see it, his fingers moving dexterous on her, his other hand on her low back, holding her even closer to him. 

“Sweet g... Anne… Carrots,” he tried, but he was too far gone, the feeling of her warmth over him, the softness and sleekness of her insides, her nibbling on his neck too much, too overpowering for anything he had experienced before. He wasn’t sure if he collapsed before she did, crying his name into his shoulder, her back arching, tensing and tightening around his fingers as he felt himself explode, years of frustration, longing and desire simply getting through him, leaving him feeling as whole as he had never dared hope for.

They didn’t move much for a while, both just trying to regain their breathing and collect their thoughts. Anne curled in his chest hugging him as she heard his heart slowly go from a mad beating to a calm, steady one. He finally retrieved his hand, wiped it in his still wet, now soiled, shorts and then caressed her on the back, sighing. The only sounds were those of the birds and the small waves of the lake.

“I should probably get dressed,” she mumbled against his skin after a while, realizing she was stark naked in the middle of a public forest. But she was too comfortable.

“Mmm?” was Gilbert’s answer. He had drifted to some calm state between sleep and wake, and only her voice brought him back. He hugged her tighter. “Just stay longer here? We’ve gotten away with it for a while, how can five minutes more make any difference?” Five minutes turned into an undetermined amount of time as she slipped from his chest and curled beside him, wrapping herself with a towel and falling asleep with him. Only to awake by his hand caressing her hair slowly, calmy, the shadows of the trees in a different angle.

“I finally got away with it,” she commented, smiling as she stretched her arms.

“Got away with what?” he asked.

“Sleeping. With no teasing from you,” she said cheekily. He let out a heartfelt laugh. “I just had to tire you out, first.”

“Anne, you can tire me any time you want, you wicked carrot,” he said, giving her a quick peck and smiling like a kid at Christmas. She giggled and wrapped herself more on the towel, sitting up.

“So, what’s next?” she asked. Gilbert opened his eyes. Was she serious? Now? Again? “In the day, Slateface, in the day! We’re leaving tomorrow, so what do we have to do today?”

“Well… I should probably go to the lake, wash a bit. But… packing, go to the service station to put on some gas to the car and check the air on the tires and whatnot… probably call Bash…” he commented, standing up.

“I already packed. So that’s done for me. Go, wash! I’ll see you from here, you tell me how the water is now,” she said, smiling at him. He shook his head on his way to the water.

“It’s freezing and all your fault!” he called her when he was finally there.

“Deny you loved it!” she answered, smiling to him as she put on the upper part of her bathing suit and the white t-shirt she had taken from his closet in the morning. He shook his head, but his smile was as big as it got, dimples and everything. Examining the lower piece, she decided it was… not quite wearable now and put the shorts directly as he was coming back.

“You’re really going like that?” he asked.

“Gilbert, we went through this this morning. It doesn’t look like I’m walking around naked in your t-shirt, get over it,” she answered, rolling her eyes.

“That’s not what I meant. No underwear?” he asked, grabbing a towel and putting it around his waist, kicking his wet shorts down.

“Do you think anyone is going to stop me and ask me what I’m wearing under the shorts?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. He smiled wickedly and hugged her, giving her small bites and open mouthed kisses on her neck, bringing her closer to him. The idea of him naked, just in a towel, and how his lips felt on her neck and then how he always went for her collarbone and… she started to feel warm again, but that would not do. Not now. “Gil! I really don’t have anything else to wear!” she protested.

“And so? Can’t I kiss you then?” he said innocently, smiling at her as he saw her blush. Well, he could. But if he kept doing it that way, her shorts would not do either. He laughed and let her go, satisfied with himself as he rummaged through his backpack, taking out some boxers, shorts and t-shirt. “Why didn’t you even bring underwear, that’s my only question,” he asked as he changed. 

“Beach day? I really didn’t think about it,” she explained, folding her towel. She had been too busy making a point with her choice of clothes in the first place, to think about bringing any more. They packed up quickly and Gilbert did a small round checking they weren’t leaving anything behind. 

“You’re not forgetting anything?” he asked. She shook her head. Bonus point to forgetting everything at home? There was almost nothing to pack here. He squated close to where the blanket had been, the Queen Anne’s lace forgotten there. “Your friend the carrot!”

“Are you serious, Gilbert?” she said, and he nodded, all smiles, teasing and something else. He went towards where she was and put it behind her ear, caressing her cheek and giving her a small kiss. She looked perfect, messy red hair over his white t-shirt, blushed from the day, the tiny flowers behind her ear.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... how's Montreal? (We’re teasing, of course... don’t kill us!) A bit eager to get there, or are we happy taking things calmly? :)  
> Now, for real: go and google Queen Anne's lace and then Wild Carrot. We weren't joking in the chapter- they're truly the same plant and it has the cutest little white flowers. Can you guess the song that went with that moment? With the lake shenanigans?  
> And try to tickle someone and have them spell a word, it's good fun!  
> Well, we'll see you on Wednesday... let us know what you think about this summery day-trip before the big holiday.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Ok...we got little sneaky last chapter about the whole Montreal sequence...but all for a good reason! Who would not enjoy a day in the beach with Anne and Gil?
> 
> Now, for who was guessing the songs from the scenes of last chapter: UNION for the lake shenanigans, Sunkissed during the wild carrots talk and Making Love in the Mountain and Electric Feel throughout all the make out scene.
> 
> Sooo... Ready to see what will happen now? Go ahead! We highly recommend you to listen to this soundtrack as well... it will do wonders ;) https://open.spotify.com/playlist/72Rxb4eweKxX4FWcrELz8R?si=Rmv3VGEDS7OhZWzD8faoUg

“So, I’m calling Bash in a bit to check any details and whatever he needs for us to take there. He…” Gilbert trailed off, trying to think of how to voice his question without it sounding like he was making many assumptions. 

“He...?” Anne prompted him, as they closed the trunk of the car and got inside. 

“Well, some weeks ago he asked how we wanted the… sleeping arrangements. It’s Bash. He was teasing at the time. I’m just assuming here he’s going to ask again, but if he did, what would you prefer I say?” He noticed her blush as he moved from the parking spot.

“What did you say before?”

“Two rooms. It was weeks ago, Carrots, when I only hoped for you to see me in a different light” he explained. She nodded, not really wanting to sleep alone but not sure about telling about their relationship yet. “It can stay that way, Anne-girl,” he commented gently, but not really wanting to. There was nothing to hide. To shy away from. Every minute he spent with her he was sure this was it for him, everything he had ever hoped and wished and imagined. She bit her lip, unsure. “What is it that worries you?”

“I… am not sure?” she answered, as she really was at a loss. No one knew about them. She wasn’t that sure about telling anyone yet. What if in the end it didn’t work out? “Do they know about us?”

“Not yet. Only Fred… and the whole hospital, by extension, because he’s a gossip. No one from home. Would it bother you if they did?”

“I…” she started, but trailed off, looking out her window. Gilbert frowned, confused, and reached for her hand. 

“Anne?” he insisted, squeezing it, as he incorporated into the highway.

“It’s not that it bothers me. It’s just… What if this doesn’t work out?” she said, looking at their joined hands.

“Why wouldn’t it? We’re not teens anymore, we are better at communication, we know what we want…”

“Do we?” she asked, frowning. She still wasn’t sure about staying in Ontario or going back to PEI, how could she be sure of anything else?

“We can’t keep living in a bubble, Anne. Eventually people are going to find out. Heck, I almost want them to. Save for becoming a doctor, this is the first thing in years I'm completely sure about and I don’t even care what anyone says”,” he said. She didn’t answer. He drove in silence for a few minutes. “Anne… what if it works?” 

She remained in silence, but put on  _ July _ , by Leon Bridges, to fill the air, not really wanting to continue that conversation. Somehow, this felt too rushed for her, too quick, almost as she had leaned forward on a cliff and was falling. Not a bad sort of fall, but one she’d had no say in nonetheless. She wanted to hold on to what little control she had of the situation. But she didn’t want Gilbert to think she didn’t want this, because she did. Maybe there was a way to compromise?

“What about we tell Bash and Mary… and we see about the gang later on?” she proposed. He looked at her, not really comfortable with her proposal. They had been able to keep it quiet, for now. But going beyond the borders of his house, this was probably going to go out, and not in their terms. Like when the gang had figured they were living together and it had all ended in a huge discussion he would rather forget. Plus, he didn’t have anything to hide, as far as he was concerned. “Please, Gil? Maybe when we come back from Montreal, see how Mary and Bash take the news?”

“Ok,” he sighed, not really happy. “When we come back, then.” They kept in silence for a few minutes and Gilbert tried thinking of anything that could change the mood. “So, what about some ice cream before we go to the supermarket?”

“Yes!”

They went to the same ice cream parlour Gilbert had taken her last time, when she had given her silent yes to him. The mood lightened as the minutes passed and they ended in their easy conversation, looking at the full playlist Anne had put together and adding a song here and there.

“It’s going to be the best road trip ever,” she declared, her eyes shiny.

“Have you noticed we’ve never actually gone on one?”

“Of course we have! We used to go to Charlottetown!” she countered, and he raised his eyebrow.

“Charlottetown. About forty minutes away by car. You count that as a road trip, Carrots?” he asked and she bit her lip, giggling. “This is a first, for me. And I’m glad we get to do it,” he said, giving her a peck on the cheek, his arm holding her close by the waist. They were leaning against the same fence as the other time, and he was trying not to be overly possessive of Anne. Because he didn’t like feeling that and he knew it was wrong. But the way a group of guys had watched her had made him want to reconsider his relationship with jealousy. Of course, she was oblivious. Which made it even more frustrating, because if she saw them he knew she would be grossed out.

“Ok. First road trip, agreed. It’s still going to be the best ever. We have the perfect playlist, the weather is nice, we’re going to Bash and Mary’s…” He let go of her waist, stood in front of where she was sitting on the fence and looked at her in the eyes. 

“You really have no dimension of how good you look, do you?” he asked her, not even paying any more attention to what she was saying. She blinked and frowned, about to ask him what he meant, when he caught her in his lips, kissing slowly, deeply.

“Gil, what on earth?” she mumbled, feeling her lips tingly when he let go of her, resting again on her side. Guys were gone. Good.

“What, do I need an explanation now to kiss you, Carrots?” he asked, smiling triumphantly. She shook her head, not knowing what to say. She would have never taken him for someone who would do such… public displays of affection. There again, she had seen him with Winifred plenty of times. So maybe he was.“So, what do you say, time to go pack?”

“I'm already packed! But yes, let’s go home,” she said, jumping to the ground, trying to clear her mind of teenage thoughts. She checked her phone, watching the pictures they had taken just before going into the lake. “So, what do you think of this one?” she asked, showing him a photo before he started the car. It was of the both of them, sitting on the blanket, forest and lake behind. They had propped the phone on a backpack as per Anne’s insistence.

“It’s a good one. Are you posting it?” he asked. She nodded as she connected the phone to the bluetooth and resumed the playlist they had been listening to. The final chords of a song accompanied them and then  _ Ooh Wee  _ by Your Smith replaced it

_ callmecordelia Perfect summer day: picnic, splashing and a book in the middle of a friendly forest.🌳 🌲 🌳 What are your plans for Canada Day?  _

Tag gilbertblythe… publish. She went over her feed from the past few weeks. She liked this. One photo a day to reflect how her life changed, little by little.

_ @bashfromtrini: we’ll celebrate with both of you, of course! 🥳 🥳 🥳 _

Jane @The Dirty Details (16:49): And you’re seriously not fucking him? 😱 😱 😱 @Anne S-C! At least do it for his body! 😈

_ @beardad: and you didn’t invite us? Mean! 🥺 😢 _

_ @rubycakes: 💖 💗 💖  _

_ @Jerryofgreengables: Yes, yes, you both are adorable 🙄 _

What she didn’t expect was the music to be interrupted by her phone ringing. She looked at her phone. Cole.

“Should I answer that?” Gilbert asked her, noticing the blush she had for some reason. She shrugged. Why not? The photo was as innocent as photos could get. They weren’t even hugging. And if Cole wanted to comment on Gilbert’s looks, he would just write in that damn group. He had before.

“Hey Cole!” she greeted.

“Nan, I won’t expose you in that group. But can at least confess to me that you’re already with Gilbert?” he said directly.

“Cole!” she exclaimed, turning an even deeper shade of red.

“Hey there, Cole. Gilbert here. You’re on speaker,” Gilbert answered, trying to stifle his laugh.

“All the better! Can you both confess and be done with it? Playing at Blue’s Clues is seriously childish and turning too easy for it to be a challenge anymore.”

“Whatever are you talking about?” Gilbert asked when Anne shook her head to him.

“Gilbert, darling, I know you, you know me, don’t even try to deny this. We both know Anne’s the nervous one here,” Cole’s voice insisted. Gilbert laughed at that and Anne’s mortified expression.

“What gave it away, then? I saw the picture before she posted it, there was nothing strange,” he conceded. Not giving him all the reason, but not denying anything anymore. It was not worth it, Cole’s voice was as certain as it could get. Somehow he had taken her post, dissected it, and threw it to their faces.

“Because there is nothing strange! Two friends having a picnic! I’ve gone on picnics with you, Cole, and no one has said anything!” she insisted.

“Nana, everyone knows I’ve been smitten with Roy ever since you introduced us. And you never wear my clothes when you eat something at a park with me.” Gilbert was laughing openly now, his point over the t-shirt finally made as Anne opened her mouth, astonished.

“How do you even know it’s his?”

“Because it’s evident, Anne. Your t-shirts, even the big ones, are never like this. They have other quality on the fabric and a feminine cut. So, may I congratulate the both of you? Finally?”

“You can,” Gilbert answered before Anne could try to deny once again what was starting to become too evident. “Carrots, you’re just making a fool of yourself, honestly.”

“Thank you, Gilbert! Well! Finally! Care to share any details?”

“That, we won't,” Gilbert answered, still smiling.

“Oh, come on! Tell something!”

“You’re pushing it, Mackenzie,” Gilbert insisted, turning right. Anne watched him, wondering how he could be so calm.

“Anne, still there? Come on! I deserve it! How are the kisses?”

“I’m not telling you anything, Cole! There's nothing to tell!” Anne insisted.

“Nothing to tell? So my kisses are not worth telling? Now I might get offended,” Gilbert commented, his eyes on the road as he drove easily in the lonely streets, but a glint in his eyes.

“Watch it, Gil,” Anne said, a dangerous tone in her voice as she kept blushing.

“See? Even Gilbert wants to know. Two against one. Spill!” and Cole actually sounded excited. Anne looked at Gilbert, who was smiling. Smugly smiling.

“This is so not fair. Why don’t you ask him, then, if you want to know so badly?”

“Because it’s much more fun to imagine your mortified face. And I know he would tell. Wouldn’t you, Gilbert?”

“Of course, what do you want to know?”

“Are you…?” Anne looked at him, her mouth open. 

“How are the kisses? Everything you imagined? Are you still on that all-shy phase? Did you jump right into it?”

“Aren’t you curious, Cole? Pick something,” Gilbert said. He actually had no problem in sharing some of that. Because it was with Cole. And he knew Anne would be sharing as well if she wasn’t a mortified stuttering girlfriend next to him.

“Well I pick all! I’ve been waiting for this since grade eleven!”

“Gilbert, don’t you dare…”

“Ok, so… Kisses are… How could I say it,” he tapped the steering wheel absentmindedly, actually thinking, and Anne looked at him, curious, forgetting for a second her mortification. “Have you ever really wished for something, knowing full well how impossible it is? And then you keep stubbornly adding layers and layers to make your fantasy more perfect, because even if you never get to have the real thing, at least you have it?”

“I have, yes,” Cole said, his voice unsure. “I’m asking about you, kissing Anne, though.”

“I’ll get there, bear with me. So, picture that fantasy. Embellished. Year after year. And then somehow you win the lottery and there you have it. Fantasy is all yours. And when you finally get it… It’s nothing like you thought it would be. It’s new, it’s refreshing, and it’s way better than anything your poor imagination conjured. That’s kissing Anne,” she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, looking astonished at him. He turned for a second to look at her, his eyes shining again with that weird glint that highlighted the golden specks in his eyes, and then back to the road. He squeezed her hand lightly. “So are they anything I imagined? They could never be, Cole. They’re real.”

“Mate, you got it bad.”

“As if you didn’t know that already, Cole,” Gilbert said. There was silence in the car as they collected their thoughts. “I’m not answering any more of your questions, by the way,” he added.

“Answer me this, then, both of you. Why are you hiding this if it could be the single best piece of news any of your friends could have this year? It’s 2020. It’s shit.”

“That, you have to ask Anne,” Gilbert answered, looking pointedly at her. She tried to make herself small in the car seat.

“Anne? Why? Are you still… Anne Shirley-Cuthbert please put aside your insecurities for once in your life! We all love you and just want to be happy with you!” Cole said, a mix of exasperation and fondness in his voice.

“Could you at least listen to him, Anne-girl?” Gilbert whispered, not loud enough for the microphone to pick up. She bit her lip.

“I’m not sure, yet. In a few weeks. After Montreal,” she said again. She didn’t know why after that trip, she only wanted to do it after. Enjoy that small holiday only with family. 

“So, are you done packing, Carrots?” Gilbert asked later that night. Probably Bash was doing a happy dance in his house when Gilbert confirmed that yes, one room with one bed was ok for the week. Anne was reading, curled on the sofa, the skirt she had put on after her shower dangerously high on her leg, the blouse she had on wide and letting very little to the imagination. As in, he really didn’t have to imagine she didn’t have anything under. It was that evident. She had declared she was done hours ago, but he still had not seen any bag. She lifted her sight from her book and nodded. “Where’s your bag, then? I was thinking of putting them in the car now so we can go early tomorrow morning”

“What time are you thinking of going?” she asked, frowning.

“I don’t know. Seven-ish? You always wake up before I do, so just nudge me when you do and we’ll be on our way,” he replied. She nodded and went back to reading. “Anne, bags?”

“Oh, yes. The carry on? Is in the closet.”

“Packed?” he insisted, because he really wanted to have everything ready and not run the next day while looking for a toothbrush.

“Yes, Gilbert. Packed. Ready to go. I did it yesterday when you were working,” she explained, closing her book but leaving a finger to mark the page.

“And you’re only taking that for almost a week?” he asked, thinking about his regular sized suitcase, where he had put everything, from the presents that he was taking for Delly without a good reason to the book he was reading and clothes. She nodded.

“I pack light. I never bring much. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not really into accumulating stuff, even less when traveling,” she said. He remembered that same tiny suitcase when he picked her up in Toronto, what seemed like a lifetime ago. Only four months. And she had lived off that thing until she asked Diana to send her boxes.

Gilbert nodded and left her alone to keep reading. He looked at his suitcase critically. Oh, well. He was not carrying it. His car was. Taking both to the car, when he came back she was no longer reading, but preparing some sandwiches on the counter of the kitchen. They had already eaten. He went behind her and hugged her, giving her a kiss behind the ear. She unconsciously pressed back towards him, feeling his chest receive her gladly.

“Hungry?” he asked, because they’d had dinner a while ago.

“Oh, for tomorrow morning. You know how Timmie’s only ever has grilled cheese as a savory veggie option and I don’t plan on going hungry or on a sugar rush until we get somewhere decent to eat,” she explained. “I’m preparing one for you as well, but I understand if you eat one of those… BLTs or whatever, I know you only eat this way because I cook here.”

“It’s been growing on me,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her down the neck as he hugged her close to him. She felt butterflies on her stomach and swallowed.

“Gil, I’m actually on something here,” she tried. He looked at the board. The breads had something on, a bit of almost everything that was still on the counter. The tempeh was on a pan next to her. He grabbed it and distributed it quickly, trying not to burn himself, and closed the sandwiches.

“There, done. We can organize the kitchen and pack them later,” he said, going back to nibble her ear, his hands roaming to her breasts. Since she had gone out of the bathroom, already dressed, he had been holding back on this. “You’re making a habit out of this… I love it,” he whispered to her as she struggled to breathe normally, her hands on the counter.

“Well… it’s more comfortable,” she said slowly, concentrating on each word as Gilbert’s hand continued caressing around her breasts, pushing her gently against him. Against where she could already feel there was a bulge forming in him, just behind her bottom. As she noticed this, she inhaled shakily, feeling how just the image of him behind her, sucking her neck, was enough to turn her on.

“It’s perfect,” he whispered, his fingers going ever so lightly over her nipples, already perky and hard, as he felt her pulse quicken. Noticing the little signs of her excitement turned him on even more, and he moved his hips slightly, teasingly, against her back, feeling her bottom press against him. She wanted him. After the taste of the afternoon, she wanted him even more than before. Not with the apprehensive curiosity she had felt, but with the knowledge that this was going to be good. He moved again and she whimpered.

“Gil, I…”

“What do you want, Carrots?” he asked, trailing slowly one hand down her belly and feeling how she inhaled sharply. “You want me to touch you?”

“I… yes,” she managed to say as his fingers reached the skirt. He moved the fabric to the side, going over her panties, and moved against her again. He trailed a finger up and down the moist fabric, causing her to moan.

“Goodness, Anne… How can you be this wet already?” he asked rasply, pinching her nipple with the other hand as she arched into him, not knowing how to get closer as she whimpered. For all she had been all but silent the first time he had ever touched her, she now didn’t control, or made the effort to control, any sound that came from her. And he just loved it. Pushing the fabric slightly to the side, he ran his fingers against her center, a moan on her throat and one escaping his as well as she put one hand behind her, looking for his erection over the sweatpants he was wearing.

Gilbert put on some more pressure, making smooth circles with two fingers as she panted, her hand distracted. He felt her tense slightly, a small moan, and he picked up her pace, feeling her heart beat wildly under his hand, still massaging her breast, pinching her nipple, as he gave small bites to her neck.

“Gil… I…”

“You let go, Carrots, I have you,” he said, as he saw her white knuckles on the counter and felt how unsteady her legs were now. He didn’t relent on his pace, her moans going deeper until she tensed, flush against his chest, arching, a cry on her lips as he smiled against her neck, holding most of her weight. “I’ve got you, darling girl, I’ve got you,” he whispered, slowing the movements of his hand as she rode out her orgasm.

Anne turned to face him and Gilbert saw her face, pupils dilated, eyes bright, blush in her cheeks, and he kissed her deeply, nibbling on her lip, exploring her mouth. He moved the chopping board to the side and helped her on the counter as she fumbled with his pants, pushing them down with his boxers. He chuckled, but stopped short as she grabbed his erection, her eyes still on his. She hadn’t looked down, yet. It felt as firm, hard, but soft as it had in the afternoon. Moist on the tip. He closed his eyes, sighing controlledly as she found a rhythm.

“Anne-girl…” he whispered forcedly as she bent over to nibble his neck. “Oh, god, Anne, I…” he put his hand on top of hers, slowing it. “I… wait, just a…” he tried, but his heart was beating too hard, his breathing too shallow. She kissed him, her legs circling his torso and joining behind him, and effectively getting her center as close as it was humanly possible with her underwear still on. He moaned at the feeling of her moisture, or her warmth, the barrier there but still allowing so many sensations. She whimpered as well, feeling his hardness so close to her and yet needing more. This was it, she knew it now, how it felt to need someone inside.  _ Gilbert _ . To know it would be good. She moved against him, noticing how his erection took whatever space her panties allowed and moved against her center.

“Gil,” she moaned as she felt the tension, the knot inside her forming again. But that was not possible. It wasn’t. Was it? She tried speaking again, because something must be wrong, but only a moan came out. She felt him breath raggedly against her neck, bringing her closer. 

“Don’t hold, Carrots,” he tried telling her, but his words were probably unintelligible as he was trying so hard to control himself, the feeling of her wrapped against him, her moistness, her scent, her moans, almost too much for him.

_ Please let her come quick, _ was the only thing he prayed for now, because he didn’t want to cut her inspiration, for lack of better words, but really wasn’t sure for how long he could hold himself now. She must have gotten the idea as she tensed and cried into his shoulder, not knowing or understanding how she had gone all her life without this to have it happen so often now. 

“Gilbert, I…” she tried, still not feeling in control of her body as he caressed her back, stopping the movements as he tried to compose himself. He really wanted her now. He had been holding, and waiting for her clues, but he needed to be inside her, to know how her folds felt, to have her cry his name with him inside her, to let go inside her. He still waited a moment. “How could…?” She asked, when her breathing finally slowed down some, when she could speak, the energy in her body lowering to a pleasant simmering. He chuckled, a strain still in him, his erection painful and waiting for any kind of release.

“You’re a woman, Carrots. Comes with advantages,” he explained with a hoarse voice, and it dawned on her that there was another myth that was real. How far could this go, then? How would it feel to come unsewn with him in there, if she came like this with him only hovering on her entrance? He tried breathing deeply, his jaw tense and his eyes shut, but felt her move again. “Anne…” he forced himself to say, his voice strained and raspy as he forced the words, “unless you know what you want, I think it’s better to let this go”. 

“I… do. I believe I do,” she whispered, blushing. Not understanding why she was blushing, having come so far with him. There was really no need to feel self-conscious anymore, yet she still did. He pulled slightly apart and looked into her eyes.

“Tell me, sweet girl,” he asked, not daring to assume anything. She swallowed.

“You,” she said, biting her lip. He frowned. What would she call this, then? “I want you. All of…” she didn’t get to finish, his kiss interrupting her. There was a need, a desperation, but also a relief in the way Gilbert was kissing her, the moment finally there. But he didn’t want to fuck her against a kitchen counter, and he realized that, if he didn’t change something, that’s just about what was going to happen. He was starting to lose what restraint and calm he had left. He wanted to make love to her in a place that was comfortable for her, where she could relax after he was done with her.

_ Shit,  _ he thought, as he grabbed her buttocks again and carried her flush against him towards his bed, pushing the sweatpants and leaving them a puddle on the kitchen’s floor. He didn’t have any comdoms because he had been all but celibate for the past five or six years. Even if there were any, they had to be well past their best before date.  _ Fuck fuck fuck _ He carefully let go of her in the bed, her hair pooling in the white duvet. He bent down to kiss her, her legs still wrapped against him, pushing closer to him. Then he looked at her in the eyes, her pupils dilated, her cheeks flushed.

“I’m afraid I’m going to be a spoilsport, darling girl” he whispered strainedly, locking his eyes with hers.  _ Fuck.  _ How could he not think about this any of the past few weeks? This was going to happen, eventually, and he should have prepared in some way. He even considered for a split of a second just going with it, but his mind caught up with his body pretty quickly and he retreated more, lying to her side. She frowned. “Unless you are on some kind of contraceptive and…”

“Shit. I’m not, Gil. I mean, I’m clean, but I’m not on anything because… It’s never been worth it,” she closed her eyes, frustration evident in her face as she tried to catch her breath. For the first time she had felt so ready, not apprehensive or tense. He held her hand, squeezing it tightly, his eyes shut and jaw tense.

“For the record. Clean as well,” he said, still cursing mentally, covering his eyes with his other arm, trying to calm down his body, to get some reign of the needy pain his erection felt.

Anne turned her head and watched his struggle, how his chest tried to go up and down in a smooth breath but how shaky it actually was, and as she lowered her sight she saw in detail his erection for the first time. Skin slightly darker than the rest of his body, so silky it had felt before, so warm. She turned to her side and held it tentatively, making his hips arch instinctively as he hissed.

“May…” she whispered and saw him nod. He needed her. Whatever way she was willing. But now. It had been too long of a wait to be shattered by his unpreparedness and if he didn’t get some release he was actually going to be in some kind of physical pain. He could just feel it. Anne kneeled beside him, her hand moving slowly at first, as she curiously watched his reactions, adjusting the pace as she saw Gilbert moan. He felt he was so close, having held for so long, it was not actually going to take much to finish him.

“Carrots… yes… that’s...” he mumbled, breathing fast, the muscles on the arm he had over his face tense, as were the ones on his neck.

Anne saw him, trying to think how she could even make him feel as much as he had her. She wanted him to experience that level of bliss, of earth-shattering sensation, of being nothing and all at the same time. Maybe she could…? Lincoln had asked, once, but she hadn’t accepted and, for once, he hadn’t pushed it… But here? With Gilbert? She wanted him. She wanted to make him come as undone under her touch as she had under his. So she lowered slowly and engulfed him in her mouth, marveling at how hot, and hard, but incredibly soft he was. Her tongue running up and down his length, so, so soft. Silky.

“Goodness, Anne!” he exclaimed, pleasure magnifying at something he hadn’t even thought possible. She sucked on him, one hand still on his base, the combination of movement and sucking taking him over the edge. He took off his arm, the sight of him in her mouth, her eyes on his, taking him even closer. “Anne, I…” he tried again, but she didn’t listen and closed her eyes. He reached her cheek with one shaky hand, trying to move her, because he could not have her there for any longer and hold it. “Fuck, Carrots, I…” he tried again, but she ignored his hand, pulling it away with her free one, instead running her tongue on his tip. He could not restrain himself anymore, releasing into her mouth as he moaned loudly, his back arched, hip pushing and thrusting erratically into her mouth, every cell in his body alive. She tried swallowing the salty liquid quickly, but decided just to clean her face with her blouse instead as he finally relaxed in the bed and she let him go. Looking up, she grinned at him.

“Was that good?” Anne asked softly after a moment, even when not much confirmation was needed after how his body had contorted. Gilbert tried regaining his wits, his breathing going steadier, a tiredness filing his body.

“Come here,” he said, and Anne curled on his chest. He kissed her head as he hugged her close. “That’s beyond… beyond anything I’ve felt, Anne-girl.” She giggled and he chuckled. “Proud of yourself, aren’t you?” he mumbled, his eyes closed, and she giggled more as her only answer. “You should be, Carrots. That’s… I can’t even describe it.” And he really couldn't, he realized. Not because it was the first time a woman did that with him, it had happened more times than he could remember. But because the intensity had been so great, so shattering. He had considered that he had had a pretty decent sex life before he decided it was not worth it if nothing was going to come out of it, but this? This was something else.

“May I propose something?” he said after a while.

“You can,” she commented, still giggles in her, feeling more at ease and relaxed than she had in a while. It was good and unexpected that she had somehow the same effect on him than the one he had in her. 

“We could make a stop at Shoppers tomorrow and just get some condoms? Not that I didn’t enjoy this… But so we are prepared for next time?” he proposed. She laughed.

“Sounds like a plan. Still, maybe something more reliable could be better as well? The pill? An IUD? It’s just… condoms are useful, I’m the first to admit, but… if this is going to be long term, maybe…” he caught what she meant and could not help but seek her lips for a kiss.

“Definitely, Anne girl. We could always set up an appointment at the hospital,” he commented, as she propped herself up in his chest looking at his face, examining the short stubble on his face, the jaw relaxed now, his chin as handsome as ever.

“What a splendid chin you have,” she mumbled, more to herself than anything else.

“What?” he asked, half frowning, half laughing. She blushed.

“Yes, set up that. Sorry,” she said, a shy smile on her face. She gave him a peck and returned to his chest. “We still should get them,” she mumbled after a moment, almost as an after-thought. The only sound was the one of their breaths in the silence of the night.

“So, I have a splendid chin, eh?”

“Now don’t get smug, Gilbert Blythe,” she scolded. Gilbert barked a laugh and hugged her tightly, kissing her forehead before she snuggled against him.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uff... So some things needed to be arranged before their trip and now Cole is the first from the gang to know our couple is official! He's just sneaky like that and doesn't lose a beat. What are your thoughts about that?  
> Now, on Saturday the road trip begins! Fuel tank filled, sleeping arrangements done, everything packed up. And no... We are not teasing this time... Pinky promise! So, what do you all things will happen? What do you expect? Tell us everything and hide nothing! ;)


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, you all!  
> This road trip is starting today. Are you ready? Your wait has come to an end! Five-ish hours of driving ahead! We have SO MUCH MUSIC for today. First things first: you have to listen to the first playlist. It's so, so important for this chapter. We have mentioned it a couple of times, but this time? We mean it more than ever. You can actually travel along them. So listen to the music!  
> Here's the one you can't skip: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6BgQqvuEq8jzUbKm1yLH15?si=JY2zQTJST1y42Wj3lFUPhA  
> Now, if you follow Hikari in Spotify or read our replies to every comment (we don't judge) you might already know we realeased a couple of playlists over the past few days. You're all very quiet about that! We're curious to know what you think and we actually thought about a... kind of game.  
> For the Avongang playlist, can you tell what song goes with each member (or honorary member) of the group? Honorary members are Roy and Jerry, of course. They're not in the group chat but they're important. So... Avongang playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0NdwSuP6Qms1yKaESKh1Se?si=ldA-FfUNTzK1cYaV3Emqsg  
> But Anne and Gilbert were also super close to their parents... or parent-figures. You know what we mean. And their music was also a great influence in them and they keep listening to it, half out of nostalgia, half because it's great music. You could also match Marilla, Matthew and John to their songs if you wanted. So, music from the kindred parents, here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4l38XxwMZzOy0piC63MJzJ?si=YjUXWNlTS-KdgJHiWw2FaA  
> And finally... because five hours of travel is a lot of travel, here are some extra favorites: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5ZCdJIMilgbvr1i2wSGjqb?si=j0gAxmp2Rt-2Ry8YnLG-6A  
> So, if you all want to play at guessing the musical taste of Avongang and the parents, we might have a collective prize next week. Remember that time I couldn't sleep and had long midnight musings with Hikari? Well. My mind doesn't ever stop 😉  
> Fuel tank filled, sandwiches packed, sleeping arrangements made, everyone ready? Let's go!

As soon as Gilbert turned on the ignition, Anne connected her phone to the bluetooth.

“Ready? This is not only the best playlist for a road trip. It is the best possible playlist for  _ our _ roadtrip,” she said. 

“And how is that so, Carrots?” he asked, teasing.

“Well, for once, we did it. And second, there are so many good songs! So many good memories!” she put play and Gilbert laughed as  _ Sunday  _ from Office Hours started.

“Well, you’re starting off track. It’s Wednesday,” he said. Anne stuck her tongue out to him.

“It’s about sunrise! And it has the more roadtrippy rhythm!” she argued, lowering the window as the weather was already warm despite it being only seven in the morning. Gilbert laughed, turning up the volume, driving relaxed as they both sang, the sky blue, not a cloud in sight. 

“Did you actually put any order in this playlist or what?” Gilbert asked, as the next song began. Anne laughed.

“I thought we were going to be asleep and in need of waking up?” she explained sheepishly and he laughed even harder.

“And here I thought you wanted to start with reminiscing so early in the morning,” he commented, remembering the energy of the hockey finals in grade eleven. Before he left the team to focus on medicine exam studies. How the whole stadium had sung after Anne had somehow convinced the supervising teacher to put on  _ Thunderstruck _ . The whole 300+ people that were rooting for Avonlea High team shouting and singing thunder repeatedly accompanied by the AC/DC song. He was supposed to pay attention to what was happening in the last minute strategy meeting as captain, but he only had eyes for Anne, wearing his spare hockey jersey, her bright eyes as she made even proper Diana scream. His grin had been so big Billy Andrews had pushed him just to see if he could shake it off.

“Oh, I’m all for it, don’t get me wrong. But this one is in this position for the rhythm,” she said, giggling. 

“I just want to know this: how on earth did you convince Mr. Phillips to put on that song at that point of the game? There were hardly five minutes left! Of the overtime!” Anne laughed as she remembered how she had somehow convinced Prissy Andrews to bat her lashes at Mr. Phillips. “Well, you know how Mr. Phillips had the biggest crush on Prissy?”

“Prissy Andrews?”

“The same. Well, he did, anyway. And we girls knew that. Prissy knew it. So I convinced her to… go and smile at him as she pressured for the song to be played. I hid, of course. He couldn’t see me or else it wouldn’t have happened.”

“What was it with you and him, anyway?” Gilbert asked, remembering the rivalry she had with that teacher.

“Oh, I was just too opinionated for him. Too many drastic views. Too outspoken and challenging. And I was adopted, a redhead, and a menace to the order he had put on in the school.”

“You were all that school needed, honestly. It was a boring hole before you came, and then I really had some motivation to go.”

“Yeah, right. We didn’t even talk until about a year after I arrived.”

“Believe me, I know. It was painful. Figuratively and literally. I just kept going to mop with dad and he was enchanted with you since the first minute. That year went on pretty fast, all I could do was think of ways for you to forgive me,” he said, as he incorporated the highway.

“Well, did it work then?”

“What?”

“The song. It was the finals. And you were just so close. I felt like you really needed a nudge. And then how that stadium felt with everyone yelling thunder at the same time… Thuuuuuunder eagles!” she yelled, her arms up. Gilbert chuckled.

“It did. It was… That kind of energy, I’ve never felt it after that. So many people rooting for the same, just a game, something innocent… We won, didn’t we?”

“We did. I would like to take some credit, if you don’t mind, captain Blythe,”

“I don’t mind. I’m pretty sure Moody and Charlie would agree and all, they felt energized after that and they were already tired. Tie in the finals. Minutes left in the overtime. We really didn’t want to go to shootouts and that was just about to happen. We were so, so tired,” he remembered. Every bone ached. At that moment, and the following days. But by then they were champions, so it didn’t really matter.

“We all could tell. And frustrated, to top it all. But the guys from Carmody were in the same state and you were playing as locals, there was bound to be some advantage,” she countered.

“Advantage as having an ex-student seduce a grumpy and biased teacher so he puts on a song?”

“Exactly! If it wasn’t then, then when? We had to take our chances, especially as it was your last game. I still think you should have kept playing… You were so good,” Anne tone was slightly reproachful, as she still felt he had somehow wasted his talent.

“I wasn’t. You’re biased there. PEI is a tiny island with shitty hockey and there was no way I could get any sort of scholarship out of it. Best bet was to try to get an academic one, for which I could have some chance,” he countered. An argument they had had over and over in grade eleven. And then at the beginning of grade twelve. She pouted. “And that pout is not going to get you anywhere, Carrots. Didn’t work then, not working now.”

“You’re not fun,” she said, but he could tell she was joking.

The mood was light, the choice of songs prompting more and more conversations of their school years, stories about their parents (Anne had insisted they included plenty of Marilla, Matthew and John’s songs in there) and discoordinated singing. The winner for Anne was when they tried with absolute no success to sing the choir of  _ Take on me _ by A-Ha, ending with a fit of giggles Gilbert had to control as quickly as he could so he could drive somewhat safely. Anne put the song from the beginning one more time.

“Come on! We can do this!”

“We can’t, Anne, and we will crash! We’ve never been able to, what makes you think ten years of not practicing have made any kind of difference in this matter?”

“Faith in us? Come on, just this last time! It’s coming now, Slateface!” she said as the chorus approached again. Gilbert joined her reluctantly, trying hard not to laugh and keep his eyes on the road. “Take on me….take me on... I'll be gone... In a day or two!” They failed. Of course. Anne laughed so hard her belly was hurting. 

Her belly hurting reminded Anne they hadn’t had any breakfast yet, save for a slice of banana bread they had eaten just before going out. And that had been almost two hours ago. She googled quickly. They were already out of Oshawa, the last of what could be remotely considered the Toronto area. They were crossing near a tiny village called Newcastle… and next Tim Horton’s for some ice coffee was some fifteen kilometers away. Well, as good as it could get for a while. Searching for a song, she added it to the queue so it played next.

Gilbert turned to look at her as the upbeat and happy, but decidedly retro music started. He had been at Green Gables enough so he could recognize one of Matthew’s favourite groups and the first verse just confirmed his suspicions. They had added plenty of their parent’s songs but that one right then, that was not a coincidence. The Mamas & The Papas. He chuckled.

“ _ Blueberries for breakfast _ ? Hungry much?” he asked, teasing. 

“Hungry? Me? How can you ever think that?” she feigned innocence.

“So you just didn’t googled the nearest Timmies around here?” he asked, skeptical, because he had seen some map on her screen a few minutes ago.

“Eleven minutes down this route! Come on, Blythe, coffee and dry sandwiches await!”

“We really should have wrapped them yesterday.”

“You wouldn’t let me do my thing. I was there, preparing a nice breakfast for us, and you somehow manage to spoil it,” she teased.

“You were not complaining then,” he said with a knowing smile. She blushed some, but tried to shrug it off.

“I’m not complaining about that. You’re the one complaining, Gilbert Blythe. And it’s a good thing we remembered to pack them this morning. So, can we stop?”

“Of course we can, Anne-girl. Whenever you want,” he answered. “That’s such a good breakfast song.”

“It was Matthew’s. I’m just stealing his genius. He used to put this on Sunday mornings and Marilla would make some pancakes. The best pancakes ever. I just loved Sunday mornings… I hated going to church with them, it felt weird after not having done it before, but Sundays were so nice in Green Gables. Matthew at home, Marilla relaxed, blueberry pancakes for breakfast and the leftovers for dessert...”

“They were the best. All she cooked was good. She taught you well,” he said.

“She tried, at least. I’m afraid I didn’t pay much attention to some things and now I wish I had… that sourdough starter? She tried so many times to get me started and I just hated it then, it made no point if I could just buy the fresh yeast.”

“Yes, until a pandemic made everyone want to become a baker,” Gilbert said. “I still don’t get how it was the flour, one of the things to go scarce. If people didn’t bake before, why would they now?”

“Probably something to pass the time? Convinced themselves this is an apocalypse and flour will save them? I have no idea, but I was so grateful when you managed to get some back in April.”

“Would have never known, so much you talked back then…” he commented without thinking. He had gone to all the supermarkets he had been able to think of until he had found a couple of 5 kilos bags of flour that she had put on the list. Shortly after that, bread started to appear in the house. Those were the days she still locked herself in his bedroom. “Anyway, I’m glad you do now,” he added, not wanting the moment to get tense, and squeezed her hand lightly. The moment could not go tense for long, anyway, as  _ Hakuna Matata _ started and they were singing like they used to as kids, when John would join them and teach Anne how to make a fort. 

Soon enough they arrived at the highway stop and approached the reliable Tim Horton’s putting their masks on as they walked. Anne had a tote bag with the sandwiches, so they could eat on the small patch of grass that was just behind the car, as the tables inside the cafe were still not up for use. Gilbert opened the door for Anne and she came in, still talking about how they should definitely do another fort, and they approached the cashier, who received them with a smile that reached her eyes, despite the mask and the plexiglass shield.

“A double double? I really need to go to the washroom,” Gilbert asked her, squeezing her hand lightly and leaving her as he went to the back of the local as Anne nodded.

“Hi, what can I get you?” the cashier smiled.

“A double double... medium?” Gilbert hadn’t actually said what size he wanted. The cashier tapped on her computer.

“And for your husband?” she asked, the same smile on her face. Anne blushed, shocked. Gilbert was not her husband! What could give that idea? “Darling?”

“The… the… the double double is for him?” she stammered, not knowing how to contradict her. “I... er… ice coffee? Large, please. Almond milk.”

“Anything to eat?”

“Timbits? The assorted box” Anne said, even if she didn’t really want them, just because she couldn’t think coherently.

“Of course,” said the cashier and then looked to the side, where Gilbert was coming back at a hurried pace, taking his wallet off his pocket. “Oh, here he is. Darling, your double double is large or medium? Your wife isn’t sure…”

“Wife? I… medium, medium is good,” he said, a slight frown that went away quickly. He looked at Anne, blushed and uncomfortable. Hadn’t she corrected the lady? There again… wife? He smiled.

“I… washroom,” she said, and disappeared as Gilbert paid, listening to  _ Love You for a Long Time _ by Maggie Rogers in the background. He received everything (timbits? At this time of the morning?) and went back outside.

Anne felt her phone buzz when she was drying her hands. Taking it out, she saw a message from Gilbert.

**Gil (8:50): I’ll wait for you by the car. Take your time. Wife. 😏

**Anne S-C (8:51): Ok. Don’t go so quick, now 🙄

Wife? She was not wife material. Not now. Not ever. Too clumsy and homey and stubborn and… she could love Gilbert, but they’ve been together for like two days, and she still didn’t even know what to do with her life. Not even where to live it. She couldn’t be a wife. Why would the cashier say anything of the sort? Oh, god, what would Gilbert think? She didn’t want him to think she was pressuring in any way. Maybe take the whole thing with humour?

“Here you go, husband,” she said, taking out the sandwiches and passing one to him as she sat. Sarcasm and humour in her voice, Gilbert noticed, as if it was a huge joke. He smiled softly. He hoped it wouldn’t be. Right? He was so, so sure about Anne… But maybe this was going fast? He really needed to speak with Bash about all this. They ate in silence after that, both lost in thought, and went to the car. Anne looked at the playlist, biting her lips. She wanted something happy and optimistic that took them away from the uncomfortable silence they were in.

There.  _ Here Comes the Sun _ . The Beatles were always good for awkward silences. It elicited a laugh from Gilbert the instant it started playing as if there was some big joke he knew about the song. And she didn’t, clearly.

“What?”

“Did you ever wonder why dad used to call you sunshine?” he asked, still chuckling.

“Well, isn’t it a regular endearment term? We were kindred spirits, after all,” she said as if it was obvious. She had never actually questioned it, too happy at the time to think about why she was being called some nice thing and not the other, and more focused on the fact she had a real home with the Cuthberts, and a kindred spirit in John Blythe.

“It is a regular endearment term, don’t get me wrong. But for him? There was a reason,” Gilbert said, smiling fondly at the memory and shaking his head lightly as he remembered his father sneaking behind him at odd times to sing bits and pieces of the song when he was least expecting him.

“Well? What was it?” Anne prompted, curious, as Gilbert seemed suddenly lost in thought. He swallowed, suddenly unsure of how much to share. “Gil?”

“Well… Thing is, Anne, I’ve been smitten with you for longer than you can imagine. It… probably began as puppy love, I won’t deny it. But the way you hit me with that slate and then proceeded to ignore me, even when you came home to visit my dad… I was gone,” Anne looked at him, frowning. This was… new. Made sense, somehow. She didn’t think he was inventing it. But he had never spelled it out like this before. “And my dad was the first to notice, of course. I wouldn’t shut up about the girl who had broken her new slate on my head. That’s why he went to the Cuthberts making some excuse to talk with Marilla, just so he could meet you, and then you two hit it off. It was mortifying, because you would come and chat with him for hours and ignore me coldly,” he said, chuckling.

“You were a prat, then,” she said, stubbornly.

“Probably. I was trying to get you to forgive me. Anyway… So he was convinced I looked happier whenever you were around, which I was, of course. I would come back from school frustrated about how you had ignored me, but then he would ask something about you and I would just melt and be all smiles. I wasn’t all smiles for a while back then, before we met. He said I did smile, but they never reached my eyes. Like some joker who didn’t really believe the joke he was telling. Anyway, so one day… You know how we used to play the guitar?”

“In theory, because you kept hiding,” she said, curious as to where the story was going. Gilbert wasn’t usually very open about the time before she had come to Avonlea, and even less about all the things he did with his dad. He had always been very private about most stuff, even if she knew he shared more with her than with most.

“Well, thing is, we played together. And one day he comes and says to me,  _ Gilly-boy, I finally found your song for this period of your life. And it’s all thanks to your Anne-girl, _ ” Gilbert said, trying to mimic his father’s voice and failing miserably. Anne laughed. “And he starts singing this. Telling me how you were this ray of sunshine in my life,” he smiled fondly at the memory and Anne did, as well, remembering how one day she suddenly was Sunshine for John. Now it made some more sense. 

“So, Sunshine, eh?” Anne asked, smiling softly at the memory of good-hearted John.

“Sunshine,” Gilbert nodded, before continuing with his story. “But he didn’t stop there, after we played it. He  _ insisted _ with the song. Made it a  _ theme _ . He would sneak behind me when I was doing some boring chore with the  _ do, dun, do, do _ or some other part, suddenly, and he would always startle me. It was very annoying, especially because he never dropped it, not even when you finally started talking to me. Or when Bash came to the house,” he chuckled again, remembering how John had explained to a much younger Bash what the teasing was all about, while Gilbert tried to shut him, his ears very red, very annoyed at the prospect of someone joining his dad in the teasing. Especially Bash. “So then I had both of them, because of course Bash would join in anything my dad proposed, even more if it was coming at me with some kind of joke… They started singing random bits of  _ Here Comes the Sun  _ whenever I was lost in thought doing something… I actually believe they had some signal, because they always started at the same time, in the same exact verse. But now I can’t help but smile when listening to it. I hated it for years when they just wouldn’t shut about it.” Anne laughed, the image of John and Bash sneaking behind Gilbert too much for her to handle. 

“Now everything makes sense,” she commented after a moment, watching the landscape. 

“Yes, about that… I’m just guessing here, but there is bound to be some degree of teasing. I anticipate a whole lot of it coming from Bash. So… just ignore him, please? I know it is all directed at me, and you should know that too.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s what he’s done for half my life. Teasing me about you. So now that I’m finally with you, he’s bound to increase the teasing. So… just know it’s not aimed at you. Try not to feel self-conscious or anything. Or even deny it. Denying anything with him will only make it worse,” he explained. Anne laughed, but agreed to try, at least. 

_ Wonderwall _ , in a lovely acoustic version by Ryan Adams started playing, the silence happy and comfortable as Gilbert held her hand, stroking hers lightly with his thumbs, the car on cruise control on the straight highway. This was really the best road trip ever. As if on cue, the song changed to  _ Road Trippin _ by Red Hot Chili Peppers. 

“Remember how we used to sing this one on our way to Charlottetown, when we went with Cole and Diana?” Anne asked him. He turned to her and smiled, remembering the Saturday escapades they used to do when Bash let him take the car. “It seemed like the most iconic song for a road trip at the time.”

“You were all about iconic things back then,” he chuckled.

“I was all about  _ travelling _ back then. Good thing you had your licence!” she answered as she joined the lyrics. “ _ It's time to leave this town it's time to steal away... _ ”

“ _ Let's go get lost, let's go get lost _ …” Gilbert joined her, as he saw the exit he had been waiting for and went to the exit lane. She looked at him smiling, loving the sound of his voice.

“I wasn’t meaning take the song literally, Gil,” Anne said when it was evident he was leaving the highway.

“I know. Pure coincidence. We’re making a stop, I want to show you something close to here,” he commented, as the road changed from the highway to a more residential one, lined with houses and more and more trees when he turned right. Anne looked giddy.

“Where are we going?”

“Now, I’m not ruining the surprise, Carrots… You’ll just have to wait for a bit. It’s about twenty minutes from here, anyway, so be patient,” he said, as they crossed a small town full of parks and big, green trees. But soon there were only fields, a small cemetery, generic Ontarian country road. Until they turned sharply to the right again, the road even smaller, not even lines painted in it, and then to the left.

“Gil, where are we going?” she asked again, excited as she peeked a sliver of the lake between a couple of houses and trees.

“Anne-girl, patience is good, we’re almost there,” Gilbert smiled, and squeezed her hand. He loved when she got all excited at the prospect of anything. He turned again after a bit and they were suddenly in the middle of many, many trees. As they approached a hut Anne squeaked.

“We’re going to a park?!”

“We are. Now, let me go down and pay the parking fee, give me just a sec,” he confirmed, stopping the car. She debated on whether to check on her phone where they were, but didn’t really want to spoil whatever Gilbert had thought of. So she tried to wait patiently, drinking what was left of her iced coffee. It was a hot day, they had to be nearing thirty degrees. And still so early. He came back quickly.

“Ok, let’s go,” he said, starting the car again. Not even ten minutes later he turned left on a tiny road that ended in a parking lot. “Now, this is not like the trails we’re used to… It’s on a boardwalk, because it’s actually a marsh. Just giving you a heads up. But… the trees are the nicest and I know you will love them and their shapes,” he explained, before they went down.

“It sounds perfect,” she smiled, opening the door and turning around. He stayed behind, took a small package from the glove compartment and put it in his pocket before going down and following her. They walked hand in hand, soon getting to the boards Gilbert had been telling her about. It felt like being in the middle of the marsh, floating in it, patches of water and everything so, so green and moist in the summer’s heat. They were in a comfortable silence, Gilbert mulling on what he wanted to speak with her.

“So… remember the wooden figures, the animals?” he asked finally.

“Yes. They are on my nightstand,” she answered. She had watched them closely, caressing them and remembering the warm feeling the fox used to give her. So soft. She regretted most days having burned every memory of Gilbert at the time. Now she longed to have something. Anything. 

“Right… Well, when I bought them, I had all this big plan,” he commented, her hand still in his, his voice very soft, mingling with the songs of the birds and the sound of the wind. She didn’t say anything, the anticipation of hearing the story she had been wondering about for weeks getting to her. “I gave you the fox first, because at the time… When we went to the forest, you always talked of a fox as your friend. You used to write stories about him, about how he protected the fairies of the forest and together they took care of lost baby animals,” he smiled fondly at the memory. They walked in silence for some minutes, Anne remembering suddenly all the stories she had used to make. Her mind had done wonders at erasing them from her memory when they had become too painful, but now she longed for them.

“I wish I could remember all the stories you made out of the fox we saw only the one time. All orange, black tail and paws. I have done my best to not let go of the ones I remember, and Delly has a great image of you because of them…” Gilbert continued, a sad chuckle with his voice, but then trailed off again. He loved those stories. If he had any talent at writing he would have put them down so they didn’t get lost, only for Delly to have. He cleared his throat, talking about the small wooden animals, a more emotional subject than he anticipated, for all the lost hopes they now represented. But for all the new ones, as well. “Anyway, the figures. So… I gave you the fox first. It was for all the stories. For our forest. For what we could share of our childhoods in there, with the story club and the walks and the snow fights. It never occurred to me, when I bought them, that somehow we would… stop speaking. Grow apart, get into a fight… It never crossed my mind. I was so sure you were always going to be there. That eventually, when we both were ready, there might even be something more between us. Then… it all went to shit.”

Anne chuckled sadly, the memory of the end of grade twelve now not as painful as it had been not two months back. It used to be a sharp stab, now it was filled with longing, a dull pain similar to the one of an old scar. She caressed the back of his hand with her thumb, trying to tell him without words that it was getting better. That she was getting there. That somehow, being with him, seeing him again, having so many hard conversations, was helping. He looked at her and felt relief in her expression.

“The idea had been to give you each of the figures as something big happened. The bee was going to be for our graduation,” he explained.

“Spelling-bee much?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Maybe it was a silly idea. I don’t even know now. But I know I had a plan for each of them. For when you got your first place. For your first teaching job. For when you graduated uni… But as I could never carry on with the plan, I just left them in a shoebox to collect dust for years. Until we found them some weeks ago.”

“It’s… Such a beautiful gesture, Gilbert. Like, the whole concept of it. Makes me regret even more that I burnt the fox…” she said, biting her lips. She had somehow made the set miss a limb. An important one. All because she had felt too much hurt to put anything into perspective and had acted harshly, impulsively. As she always did. But back then, there didn't seem to be any hope for them. For anything. And it hurt so much to look at the tiny fox. 

Gilbert stopped walking and stood in front of her, looking at her in the eyes. He held both her hands in his, and smiled softly.

“I have something for you,” he said quietly, as if somehow the birds were going to listen to their secrets. “Close your eyes, Anne-girl.” She did as directed, feeling her stomach flip in anticipation of whatever he had in mind. He leaned and gave her a peck on the lips and let go of one of her hands, taking the small package packed in craft paper and putting it in both her hands, closing her fingers over it. She felt the crumbliness of paper, a small something, hard, in it. “I feel like we’ve come such a long way since March… And that whatever happened in 2010 is finally on the mend. I already gave you the rest of the animals. But there is only one piece missing,” he whispered as her fingers, clasped in between the small parcel and his hands, tried to imagine what could be there. She felt a knot on her throat, anticipation burning. But it wasn’t really possible. “I don’t want us to have missing pieces. You make me whole. And I dare only to hope it’s the same for you,” he continued, watching as tears collected on the rim of her closed eyes. “You can open your eyes, now.” 

She looked at their hands. The tiny parcel that had somehow felt so much bigger with her eyes closed. She opened it with shaking fingers, revealing a new fox figurine. It wasn’t the exact same- they probably didn’t keep doing the same model for years and years. But it had the same style. The same waxy feeling. The same timeless design and soft colours.

She choked, a sob she couldn’t really contain, and he hugged her closely, caressing her back soothingly for as long as she needed. There was no need for words, now, the communication was silent but so effective as they breathed in synchrony in the boardwalk in the middle of the park. The past finally healed, a whole lot of opportunities in front of them.

They walked in silence, his arm around her waist holding her close as she clenched the fox figure in her hand as if it could disappear if she let go. They went into the car, still feeling like the haze of the moment as if it was not quite real. She fumbled with her free hand, searching for the song that had come to her mind as they walked back, even if it was definitely unseasonal. Soon  _ Autumn Town Leaves _ started playing and they drove in silence, enveloped by the soothing music by Iron & Wine as they left the park and went back to the high speed highway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... how's that for a roadtrip? Did you actually think these guys were getting to Montreal today? 🙂 We're super curious! What was your favorite moment? Any time your heart beated a little bit faster?  
> A few odds and ends we think you might like...  
> The park where they make the stop is called Presqu'île Provincial Park. We combed the whole way to Montreal looking for the perfect place for the stop and couldn't believe when we found it. If you look for photos... we're pretty sure you'll know why. You know what? We're nice like that. Look here and tells us what it reminds you from (forgive the huge google maps link, please): https://www.google.com/maps/place/Marsh+Boardwalk+Trail/@43.9982333,-77.7300001,15.49z/data=!4m12!1m6!3m5!1s0x89d66da5038259b1:0xa7e9450650bb3f3a!2sPresqu'ile+Provincial+Park!8m2!3d44.0098007!4d-77.7420364!3m4!1s0x89d66da977bc43e9:0x955d4680100c5193!8m2!3d43.9979317!4d-77.7266729  
> If you're wondering about the wooden figurines, there's this tiny online shop based in England that makes the exact figurines we imagine for the whole set. If I could, I would buy one of each. Go check them out (I'm linking the fox): https://www.ericandalbert.com/collections/wooden-woodland-toy-animals/products/wooden-fox-cub  
> So that's all for today... Next Wednesday, they'll definitely be in Montreal. But before then, guess time for songs! We'll tell you this: someone guessed Jerry (it was super easy) and was way off the bat with Roy (like so much we couldn't believe it). About the rest... we're not telling yet 😉


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning everyone!
> 
> So, road trip was a success, it would seem? Probably not all the detours all of you wanted, but... It had great reception and the holiday is only beginning. The music did as well :) So, before we go on with Avongang's and the parent's music, this is the playlist for today: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/16VwGQJl6SM9TNBTNPoJb1?si=88qDYOr-StWY0IKc_ZNdwA
> 
> Now! About the game... A lot of you were committed to get this right and listening to the playlists many times and looking at the lyrics. Good job! Let’s see if you got it right? 
> 
> First, let's start with the parents, shall we? We have this idea of Matthew being fan of great guitarrists, but having this... kind of hippie, chill thing around as well. John a bit more funky and well travelled (plenty of trips in his youth around Europe, maybe) and Marilla just in love with this romantic songs and powerful voices.
> 
> Sitting on the dock of the bay – Marilla  
> Les chemins de la liberté – John  
> Smile – Marilla  
> I've got you under my skin – Marilla  
> Sir Duke - John  
> Les copains d'abord - John  
> Let's stay together - John+Marilla  
> Just my imagination – Marilla+Matthew  
> The way you look tonight - Marilla  
> All along the watchtower – Matthew  
> Don't think twice it's alright – Matthew  
> Oye Como Va – Matthew  
> Blowin in the wind - Matthew  
> A Horse with no name - John
> 
> And for the gang... Some songs are based in past shenaningans, others because of the feeling or the melody or just what we believe to be the music taste of said character (remember when Diana sent Anne Gold and Gilbert found her dancing?). Everything will come to a sense, eventually.  
> Wide open - Diana  
> I Write Sins not Tragedies - Charlie  
> Good Girls Gone Bad - Jane, Josie and Diana  
> Classic - Moody  
> Player - Tillie  
> Do not Disturb - Josie  
> The Happy Song - Ruby  
> Playing for You -  
> Bad at Love - Jane  
> À hauteur d'homme - Jerry  
> T'embellis ma vie - Diana  
> My love is like wo - Tillie  
> Now That We Found Love - Moody  
> Hue - Cole  
> It Don't Mean a Thing - Roy
> 
> And we had mentioned some kind of prize, right? Of course, it will be a collective one since so many of you played and most got some answers correct. Keep an eye open this week, something might come along... ;) 
> 
> Well, let's read! It's the longest note ever!

When they finally entered the LaCroix property on the skirts of the city, in a very rural location, Bash and Mary were already waiting for them, alerted by the real time location Gilbert had started sharing about half an hour before. As they got down from the car, Gilbert going to retrieve the suitcases, Bash approached them with the arms wide open.

“The return of the prodigal son! With Queen Anne, nothing less!” he exclaimed, his smile so big his face had to be hurting. Anne laughed, instantly at ease with him as she had felt since she had known him. Mary was following close behind, a warm smile and a bit of shaking of her head at Bash’s teasing. A small girl exited the house running, yells and squeals of delight getting to them before she even got down the porch steps, a colourful playsilk tied as a cape blowing in the wind.

“Uncle Gilby! Uncle Gilby! You’re really really here!” she yelled, going directly to Gilbert’s arms, who had squatted on the ground and lifted her as soon as his arms were wrapping her tiny frame. “I’m super happy!”

“I’m here Delly-beans! How’s my favourite niece?” he asked, laughing in delight as he gave circles on the ground, the bags forgotten. Anne looked, smiling at the picture of Gilbert with a tiny girl who clearly adored him. “Did you see who I brought to you?” he asked when he finally left her on the ground. Delly instantly looked at Anne for a split of a second, her exuberant demeanour turning into the shiest of the shy, all silence, wide eyes, as someone who sees real Santa for the first time. Bash and Mary standing a couple of meters away, arm in arm, smiling at the scene that was unfolding before them.“Come! I’ll introduce you.”

“How are you, Delly?” Anne asked, smiling as she kneeled to be at her eye level.

“Are you really fairy Anne?” she asked quietly.

“I am Anne… the fairy is just my super secret identity. We can keep that between us, what do you think?” Anne proposed, winking. Delly nodded, smiling, but still half hidden behind Gilbert’s legs. “That’s a great cape you have there, are you a superhero?”

“Of course not! I am a princess!” Delly declared, standing proud.

“You could be both, you know? The princess superhero,” Anne suggested, her voice a conspiratorial whisper that made Delly squeal again. Gilbert watched the interaction in silence, his heart swelling with warmth. He had always wanted kids, but at some point had resigned himself it was not going to happen for him. Maybe if he adopted one. But seeing Anne? He wanted them.  _ Now _ .

“I will! I will save everyone with the help of Foxie!” she declared, and ran back to the house. Anne stood up, smiling, and Bash and Mary approached them finally. 

“It’s so good to have you back, Queen Anne, you have no idea,” Bash said as he hugged her tightly. “This one’s been moping for ten years straight, finally looking his age.”

“How are you, dear?” Mary asked her, hugging her as Bash turned to Gilbert, giving him a tight hug as well. Anne corresponded, smiling, feeling as at home as she had always felt with them. “Bash, help Gilbert with the bags? Lunch is almost ready, you can unpack everything in a moment. Do you want anything to drink? Cider, juice?”

“Just water, Mary. Thank you,” Anne said, the four of them walking to the house.

Soon they were seated at the dining table, Anne next to Gilbert, Delly in front of them examining curiously all the food on the table. Mary had outdone herself, preparing Gilbert’s favourite crab callaloo and then some vegan casserole for Anne as well as different side dishes. Even if he scooped some crab on his plate, he served mostly of the same dish as Anne.

“Are you not eating meat anymore, Gilbert? You should have told me!” Mary chastised him, noticing his serving of crab was more out of being polite than the amount she was used to seeing on his plate. Gilbert’s ears went red.

“I… hadn’t actually thought about that, Mary,” he confessed. “It’s just… there’s really no point in it, and I haven’t missed it in all these months, so…”

“In all these months?”

“Well, Anne doesn’t eat… and I only buy groceries she eats. And you know how everything’s been kind of closed, so… I haven’t. Not since April or something, I believe,” he explained. Anne looked at him, eyes wide. She was convinced whenever he went out of the house he was getting his… meat fix, for lack of a better word. “I just never missed it, but it has not been any kind of conscious decision. So it just slipped my mind, I guess.”

“You don’t eat crab, fairy Anne?” Delly asked finally, after looking at all the adults without understanding all the fuzz and the variety that was not this big on the table. 

“I don’t eat any animal, Delly,” Anne explained kindly.

“Why?” the little girl asked, confused. Anne blinked and looked quickly at Bash and Mary as she really didn’t want to impose her views on Delly. They both nodded slightly, Delly’s big eyes still questioning.

“Well… I try to think of the animals as friends. And they all have their own friends. Did you know each cow has a very very best friend?” Delly shook her head, stunned. “Do you have a best friend, Delly?”

“Of course! It’s Jenna!”

“Ok… so the cows have best friends as well. And I hate to think of one of them missing their best friend so I could have… some meat,” Anne tried explaining basic terms. “And that goes to the other animals, I don’t like thinking of them sad and missing someone from their family or their friends, like you would miss Jenna if she suddenly wasn’t here anymore.”

“But why?”

“Why what, Delly?”

“Why would they miss their friends?” Anne blinked and Gilbert saw she was at a loss.

“Delly-beans, when… you eat meat, say chicken or crab, that was a live animal before,” Gilbert explained, hoping he was not being too blunt but not knowing either how to soften it. Delly looked at them, eyes wide, and then to the tray where a few crabs were still laying, as if she was seeing them for the first time.

She only ate what Anne did the rest of dinner.

“So, kids, I’ll take you to your bedroom, so you can get installed and whatnot… Any plans for the afternoon?” Bash asked them when dessert was over.

“Not really? Just have some rest, I think… Spend time with you guys,” Gilbert said, as he and Anne followed his brother down the hall to one of the spare bedrooms, a double bed with two neatly folded towels on top. And a flower. Delly arrived running.

“I put the flower!” she said.

“I love the flower, Delly! It is so cute!” Anne explained. “And you know what? We could press it so it always keeps its colour, what do you think?”

“You can do that? How?” she asked in awe. Everything Anne said to her was like a discovery and Gilbert honestly didn’t know if she was doing it on purpose or not, but she was winning the girl's affections fair and square. Anne went with her to show her how to press flowers, completely ignoring her small carry on as Bash and Gilbert stayed in the room.

“How are you feeling, Gilly-boy?” Bash asked him, the voices of Anne and Delly lost in the hallway.

“Happy,” was the only answer Gilbert could give him, smiling fully as he put his suitcase on the bed. “Happy. And relaxed. And… Bash, most mornings I still don’t believe this is happening. I would pinch myself if I didn’t think it was stupid.” Bash went over and gave him a side hug, and they both laughed.

“We are happy for you as well. Watching you both get out of that car… I won’t lie to you, we had lost hope it would ever happen, but it looks as right as the summer is warm,” he said, sitting on the bed. “She didn’t bring anything? Or you both packed in there?”

“Anne has some weird talent at packing light and that thing over there is her whole baggage. Mind you, she lived off that thing for weeks and weeks,” he explained. Bash laughed, shaking his head.

“She still manages to impress me,” he commented.

“Don’t even tell me. She amazes me every day. Anyway, want to see what I bought for Delly?” he asked, because he had been giddy with excitement about the prospect of giving her a gift for weeks. Bash nodded and he opened the suitcase, rummaged a little until he found what he was looking for.

“You actually bought her skates?”

“I did! I asked you first and you said go ahead! And they are K2 and all, not one of those flimsy supermarket things…” Gilbert explained to a stunned Bash. “Bash, I’m teaching her. It’s safe. She’ll be going on her own before the end of the week. And skating doesn’t mean she’s going to try for the hockey team, ok?”

“I don’t want her on the hockey team, she’s my princess.”

“She could be great. She’s a badass, that kid,” Gilbert said.

“Badass or not I remember your beatings. Ok, you have to promise she won’t break anything under your guidance Blythe.”

“Of course she won't. She’ll be great. I even have my old ones on the trunk and all to go with her,” Gilbert assured him as he continued moving things around. “Anyway, I bought her all the protections… And the skates are supposed to grow three shoe sizes, so she won’t be breaking into new ones every four months.”

“Ok Blythe, but you’re still responsible!” Bash said, leaning back on the bed. “Oh, we really wanted to have you back for a bit. We’ve missed you. Delly especially. And Mary. You’re the sensible one to talk to, apparently… And then there’s all the new projects with the exports and all… You sure you don’t mind working on your break?”

“Bash, you’re the one keeping this whole cider thing up and blooming. I always feel I’m more of a nuisance than anything else, so if I can do anything, please tell me. How’s Elijah doing alone in Avonlea?”

“He actually met someone in Charlottetown… Apparently she’s a nice girl. But he’s fine with the orchard and the production. Still small scale and the amount of employees very manageable. I would have gone up there a couple of times already, but this year’s been shitty.”

“Shitty and all, I still get to have Anne at my place. I’m trying to look at the bright side,” Gilbert commented, reclining next to Bash. They stayed in silence for a moment. “I’m glad Elijah met someone. He worried me, for a while.”

“Kettle calling the pot?”

“Prat. At least I tried for a while.”

“Finally unpacking Carrots?” Gilbert asked her later that night. They had turned over for the night after sharing a drink with Mary and Bash after putting Delly to sleep ( _ I want fairy Anne to tell me a story! _ ). The night was silent, only the sound of crickets around.

Anne was unpacking her carry on. Some dresses, t-shirts and shorts. She had left Marilla’s camisole, her trusted pajama, because she had believed Cole's comments ( _ it’s fine to tease Gilbert, but not fine to walk around in Mary and Bash’s place! _ ). Instead, she had ordered a simple nightdress. Pink, because even if it clashed horribly it would be only for sleeping. And it was the one with the softest looking fabric, and every review said it was, indeed, the softest fabric. A bonus point for pajama wear. 

Taking her small bag of toiletries to the bathroom she found Gilbert in his pajama pants, no t-shirt, brushing his teeth. She considered how to put forward the conversation that had been on her mind for a few hours. Since they arrived and she felt suddenly like the teen she had been around Bash and Mary.

“So… I was thinking,” she said, finally. Gilbert raised his eyebrows, a signal he was listening. “As much as I… really enjoy being with you, could we… tone it down for these days?” he spit the foam on the sink, chuckling.

“So it’s not only me who feels like a teen?”

“I almost thought we were going to get separate beds,” Anne said, giggling. Gilbert laughed.

“At least we’ve outgrown that. But yes. I agree. It feels… weird, somehow. Like we’re sneaking around. And anyway, we never got around to stopping at Shoppers today and…”

“It’s not the only thing we do. We’ve… gotten around without condoms for long enough,” Anne commented, putting some paste on her toothbrush. Gilbert huffed. Easy for her to say. He was about to combust. He left her brushing and went into the bed with a book, to read while she prepared herself to bed.

Anne finally came out of the bathroom. He was fully expecting her in her usual night attire, the shorts and Marilla’s camisole that haunted his dreams. But instead… She was wearing a dress? An above-the-knee pink dress with a tiny tiny pattern of white dots, thin straps on the shoulders, evidently no bra, buttons on the loose fabric just begging to be opened. Anne felt his stunned eyes on her.

“What? Cole said it wouldn’t be that proper for me to use Marilla’s camisole here…”

“And then you decided to wear that?”

“It’s a night dress! And the fabric is so soft, look, touch it!” she said, walking over to him and pulling a bit of fabric for him to touch. He just hugged her by the waist and pulled her on top of him, eliciting a quiet squeak from her.

“So you go to the bathroom to tell me to keep off and then you put this on, Carrots?” he murmured in her ear. “You do know you are a horrible tease, don’t you?”

“I’m not! It’s a nightdress Gilbert Blythe! Night Dress!” she answered, articulating each word. He pulled her over and kissed her. Not too deeply. Just a bit. Some nibbling here and there, until she retreated. “You’re the one who’s teasing now! You agreed! No funny business,” she whispered insistingly, getting up and going to turn off the light.

“Well, I’m sorry. I just can’t help it, Carrots, “ he said as she walked over to the bed and laid on her side, hugging her pillow. He hugged his and turned to look at her as well. “You’re too beautiful to be sensible around you. Love the dress, by the way,” he added in a whisper. There was just enough light from the moon leaking in from outside so he could outline her shy smile. “I’m serious. That light pink looks lovely on you. I had never seen you wear it.”

“Because it clashes with my orange hair. It’s the bane of my existence, you know? Not being able to wear pink,” she said, stretching her arms above her head.

“If that’s the bane of your existence then you shouldn’t worry. It looks great. Brings out your hair, which I love,” he said, motioning to tickle her. She lowered her arms immediately.

“Hey!” she said.

“So how was today? Delly loved you, as I knew she would.”

“She’s desperately biased. I have no idea how I can compete with the fairy Anne you’ve told her about.”

“There’s no need. You’re both one and the same.”

“Right,” Anne replied, skeptical, getting closer to him. She put a hand on his arm. “Thank you for everything today, Gil. I really mean it. It was magical,” and he knew that she was referring to the stop they had made in Presqu’île. He smiled softly.

“I’m glad you liked it. I was a bit nervous you would find it too forward,” he confessed.

“Forward? No, it was perfect. Like a missing piece making everything come together,” she said, her hand now on his cheek. They looked at each other’s eyes. Lips. She bit the bottom one, holding herself and noticed how he was clenching his jaw.

“Oh, fuck it. We can be quiet,” he said, extending his arms and bringing her forward to him and kissing her much deeper than a few minutes before. She lost herself on the kiss. On how his tongue felt on her lower lip. On how it tangled with hers. How he nibbled on her lip. Wanting him closer, she wrapped her leg against his. He sighed on the kiss as she did that, feeling her hair, tangling his fingers in it, pushing one of her dress straps to the side.

“Gil…” she whispered forcibly, wishing somewhere she had the will and restraint to stop him.

“Shh… we can be quiet, Anne-girl…” he quieted her, trailing kisses down her neck, towards her shoulder, his hand caressing her tight and pushing the nightdress fabrics slowly up towards her waist. Reaching it, he trailed it slowly back down, amazed at the softness of her skin, as he gave her an open mouthed kiss on the shoulder, finding her panties. She tried to suppress a moan when he touched her on her center, over the fabric. She had been so good at this not a month before! There again, neither of her past boyfriends had managed to make her feel half of what Gilbert did to her…

A knock on the door.

“Anything you need, lovebirds?” Bash asked from the outside, making them both freeze in place.

“All good, Bashy. Thanks for everything, again,” Gilbert said as Anne laid, face up, next to him. Grabbing her face, completely mortified.

“Alrighty. Good night then. Beware, Delly has some history of coming in unannounced. Just so you are… dressed,” he said, chuckling as his steps moved away from the door. 

“Now you keep off, Blythe,” Anne warned him, even when she really wanted him to continue whatever he was doing before. He sent him a mock wounded look.

“But he’s gone now!” he tried. She shook her head and he sighed. Good thing she had any self control, because he was in dire need for some. Especially when she decided to wear stuff like that. Unannounced. At Mary’s and Bash’s place.

Anne woke up next morning startled as Delly jumped on their bed, and was instantly glad they had decided not to continue anything the previous night. Mainly because they felt Bash and Mary would somehow know if they even kissed, as when they were kids and didn’t dare put closer the inflatable mattress to Gilbert’s bed, but now that she knew Delly appeared out of nowhere…

“Fairy Anne! Uncle Gilby! Momma is making waffles today!” Delly said, full of joy. Gilbert hugged the little girl, bringing her to his chest as he tickled her.

“Delly! Delly! Come back here, they’re sleeping,” Mary appeared on the door, trying to cover her eyes. “Guys, I’m so, so sorry…”

“It’s fine, Mary. Nothing to worry about. And please, uncover your eyes?” Gilbert said, sitting as Delly hugged him on the neck. Mary did as told and laughed at the scene.

“Why don’t you have pajamas, uncle Gilly?”

“I do, Delly-beans, only I just use the bottom part,” he explained, as Anne blushed. as she sat, the strap of her nightdress going down her shoulder. Mary was also wearing some nightdress and she then felt it had been the right decision.

“Delly was right. There are waffles coming up in about ten minutes,” Mary said. “I guess you still have coffee, Anne?”

“Oh, yes, thank you Mary. Let me go help you,” she said as she stood up and followed her, leaving Delly with her uncle.

“So, want to see your present?” he asked, getting up and going to the closet.

“Yes yes yes yes yes!” she squeaked, excited. Gilbert took out a box, the bag with the protections and a bright pink helmet. “You got me skaties?”

“Skates, Delly-beans. And yes. You like them?” he asked as the girl examined everything, a huge smile on her face.

“Yes! Let’s go now!” she said, putting them on over her sockless feet. Gilbert laughed.

“We can go after breakfast. I promise. And I’ll teach you how to go, ok? Now, what do you say we go and help your mom with breakfast?”

“Waffles!” she exclaimed and went out of the room running. “Momma! Uncle Gilby got skaities for me! And they are white with pink!”

Gilbert followed her, putting on a t-shirt and found Mary and Anne listening to Delly. Soon they were eating, Delly actually not talking but engulfing her food in anticipation for going outside, and Gilbert went reluctantly when she pulled his shirt, taking the coffee and trying not to spill it. Anne saw from the kitchen window how they were sitting on the porch as he explained something about the protections, the mug beside him. So much happiness in his eyes.

Of course, Delly fell more often than not. Uncle Gilby was, however, a very patient teacher and by midday Delly was doing circles in the paved area in front of the house, more and more confident. Crashing against one of the cars whenever she needed to stop. Gilbert was laughing, going after her, and eventually decided that maybe showing was the best way to teach, so he put on his skates and Delly tried to emulate whatever he did as Anne looked longingly from the window. Mary put a hand on her shoulder.

“I know that look,” she said. Anne looked at her, blushing. “You’ve had it since I know you.”

“I have? And what is it, dear Mary?”

“The longing? I always thought it was just for Gilbert. But watching you with Delly, I wonder if it’s not as well for something bigger,” she answered, sitting next to her. They were about to start preparing lunch, but hadn’t really started to do anything. Anne sighed. “Anything you want to share?”

“I don’t know, Mary… It’s all just so very confusing,” she explained. “I have no idea of what the following months will bring. Even less where I’ll spend them…”

“I thought you were living with Gilbert in Hamilton?”

“Well, I’m staying there for the moment, but I’m still looking for a job all over the place… Not that it will be easy, not after how they fired me, but… I don’t want to pressure anything? Assume anything?”

“What, with Gilbert?” asked Mary, surprised.

“Well, yes… what if it goes too fast? What if he gets bored in two months?” a worry constantly on her mind. What would she do?

“Anne, darling… I’ve known that boy for over twelve years. The amount of love he has for you has no bounds. And I hadn’t seen him this… happy, this carefree, in god knows how long. You needn’t worry about this,” Mary said, patting her leg lightly and standing up to go and put on some music to listen to while they cooked.  _ Concrete Lovesong _ by Krista Muir was playing on the radio. “We should probably start cooking. They will be ravenous when they come in and Bash is always hungry, the poor dear.”

“I still don’t know where I’m going to live,” Anne commented, as she went beside her to peel some potatoes. “Or what that will even mean if we are to stay together.”

“The first step should be talking about it, don’t you think? Tell him about what worries you… Take it from there,” Mary proposed, setting some pans and taking out the rest of the ingredients for lunch.

“Thing is, I still want to go back to PEI. Or I think I do. It’s where I felt most at home. And I want to have that back, but I would never ask him to leave the hospital where he’s working now, that actually does medical research, to look for a country doctor stuff I know he’s never been into,” Anne replied, because that was one thing she knew for sure and certain. She was not going to take him away from a fulfilling job.

“Don’t assume, Anne. Maybe he would move if that meant being with you. Maybe you could carry on from a distance. Maybe you could live with him. Just consider your options. And about that home feeling? That’s the people who create it. Not a place,” she said. Anne sighed. Maybe it was. She just needed clarity. Stability. Feeling secure. Maybe she could find some of that with Gilbert? Was that possible? They continued cooking and soon Delly arrived running, going straight to wash her hands, stepping on a small stool next to the sink.

Gilbert entered after her, laughing, making a small stop as he watched Anne help Delly wash her hands. Mary smiled at him and he returned the grin. Everything was perfect, right now. Even the music and the way the sun came in. Anne went back to the chopping board where she had been working. 

“Uncle Gilby is the bestest teacher for skaties! The bestest ever!” Delly declared, going to where her mother was standing, and Gilbert went to wash his wands. “I can stop, now, Momma! And not fall!”

“That’s very good, Delly,” Mary said. Gilbert looked at them and approached Anne, offering his clean hands. “Come, sweetie, let’s go so you can change into something clean.”

“Dance with me?” he said softly, smiling at her, once they were alone. Bayley Baum was singing softly in the background and he just couldn’t help himself, not with the sun playing games with Anne’s hair.

“I’m surely smelling of onion, Gil…” she half-heartedly protested.

“Looks like I care, Anne-girl? Come, just the one,” he insisted quietly. She tried to clean her hands somewhat and accepted his, resting a hand over his suspender as one of his held her softly by the waist, the fingers of the other two intercrossing. He leaded her softly to  _ Simple Feelings _ , guiding her with small steps around the kitchen, his eyes not leaving hers and making her get goosebumps. 

Bash chose just that moment to arrive at the kitchen, probably because the delicious smell was already filling the house. He didn’t say anything and stopped Mary and Delly on the door when they arrived. He took out his phone to snap a couple of pictures and Gilbert half noticed them, but ignored it. He could deal with the teasing later, right now, he just wanted to enjoy the song and Anne’s soft smile.

“My my, Blythe, Queen Anne!” he said as the song was ending. “You are both so adorable!”

“I want to be ‘dorable too, pappa!” Delly said, extending her hands. Bash took them and danced with her as Mary laughed at the scene, Anne blushing, Gilbert smiling silly, Bash and Mary playing as they always did.

“Well, I’m sorry to interrupt your Broadway show, but lunch is ready. Who’s hungry?” she asked after some minutes, when she tried the main plate and realized it was ready now.

“Me! Me!” said Delly, forgetting about her dad. “But I don’t want animals! Can I eat the same fairy Anne eats?”

“You can, darling. And you better ask her for advice if you plan to keep this up after she’s gone,” Bash answered. 

“But fairy Anne is not leaving me, right, pappa?” Delly asked, her big eyes full with worry. She turned to look at Anne with a pout, “Right, fairy Anne?”

“I’m not going today, Delly. Come, sit next to me!” Anne answered and Gilbert pouted.

“And me?” 

“You can sit next to me, Blythe, so at least I can give you a quick intro for the meeting we have in… an hour,” Bash said. Gilbert nodded, but they were barely getting into the details when his phone rang. He saw the caller id, frowning. “Everything ok?”

“It’s dr. Yang… My boss. Let me just take it, I’ll be right back,” he said, getting up. “Im sorry,” he apologized and the other dismissed him, continuing with lunch. He answered the call as he walked outside. “Dr. Yang, how are you?”

“Dr. Blythe! Everything’s good, everything’s good… I’m so sorry to call you on your time off… ” the affable doctor told him. 

“Not a problem, sir, is everything ok?” He couldn’t quite get to the hospital at that moment, but if they needed anything at the very least he had his laptop and could participate in whatever they needed.

“Oh, everything is right, dr. Blythe. I just didn’t get a chance to call you on Tuesday, and yesterday was Canada Day and all… You’re with your family now? Your girl? How’s she doing?”

“Yes, we’re at their place close to Montreal. She’s doing a lot better, thank you for asking,” he replied, still confused. He was always caring about the doctors in the hospital, but calling just to check on the family? Well, it was nothing urgent, anyway, and that was good.

“I’m glad, I’m glad. Listen, I’m sorry for bothering you now, but I think it’s better to do it this way so you get some days to think about what I’m going to talk to you about. Dr. Wright here insisted you are never quick to make decisions and time is of the essence here,” the doctor said, his voice changing to a more business-like tone. Dr. Wright? Was Fred there? What? “I’m going to send you a formal proposal to your email, so you can check all the details and what they entail. But the bottom line is, the university would love it if you accepted being a part time professor for first year students.”

He lost his words, stupefied. What? He frowned. What on earth could they be seeing in him as a teacher? He was too young, too inexperienced! For that it flattered him that they had considered him, this didn’t make any sense.

“Blythe, you’re there?” Fred said. Huh. So he was there. He wasn’t even surprised, to be honest. Fred had spent an absurd amount of time with dr. Yang since they met him back in 2015 and had decided he was going to be his mentor, and this, knowing he was going to say no and think for days before giving any kind of answer to the hospital… Of course he had known it.

“Dr. Yang, honestly, I thank you for your offer, but I don’t think I have the expertise to do this,” he replied, ignoring his friend. He wasn’t even 30. This didn’t make any sense. At all.

“We think you do, dr. Blythe. You’re bright and one of the best oncologists in the hospital, even when you’re younger than most. And we would love it if you accepted to share your knowledge with the students,” dr. Yang explained. The amount of confidence this man had on him astounded him, and he was sure this wasn’t any of Fred’s doing. If anyone was impartial was Yang. The most Fred could have done was force this call today. “All the details are in the document I sent you, the courses we would like you to participate in, the schedule details, what would change for you in terms of your contract… Of course, all the modifications we’re making to ensure safety of both you and the students due to the pandemic. Don’t reply to me yet, this is exactly why I’m calling you. So you can think about it.”

“Ok, I will read through everything, sir. Still, haven’t you considered dr. Stanis? He’s much more experienced than I am…”

“I won’t lie to you, dr. Blythe. He was the board’s first choice. We tried negotiating with him for some weeks, but we couldn’t get to an understanding and he recommended you, dr. Blythe,” dr. Yang said kindly.  _ What?! _

“Blythe, I know you still don’t believe this, but I’m not even telling this to you as your friend but as a colleague. You’re good. Both with patients and with the students. You can do this,” Fred insisted. He sighed. “I know you can. The board and dr. Yang does too, as dr. Stanis.”

“Listen to dr. Wright, dr. Blythe. You would truly be an asset.”

“I will think about this and read all the documents,” he accepted. It was the least he could do, and take it from there. See what they were really proposing. Maybe it wasn’t that much and it actually made some sense, and he could start teaching. Which was something that he actually wanted to do in the future, as Fred knew. So nosy. “When do you need the answer?

“So, the board wants an answer by Friday next week. I apologize for the tight time frame. I could have spoken to you in a more formal setting next week, but it would have been even more rushed, which is the reason dr. Wright urged me to call you now. This way you have a bit over a week to think about the offer.”

“Thank you, sir,” he replied, still surprised and skeptical.

“Read through all the documents, note all your questions, but don’t say no just because you think you’re young, ok? You are, but that’s independent to your abilities,” dr. Yang told him. “You’re back on Monday, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ok, so let’s have a meeting around 10:00 in the morning so we can discuss this further, I can solve any questions you have and then you think about it for the rest of the week. Is that fine for you?” He put the phone on speaker and checked his schedule quickly.

“I will be there, dr. Yang. Thank you.”

“Not a worry, boy. I know you would be an excellent teacher. Please consider the offer seriously, but enjoy your holiday as well.”

“I will. So, I will see you on Monday at ten. Bye, Wright.” They hung up and he stayed watching his phone for a minute, the call still feeling surreal.

**Fred (13:40): I know what you’re thinking. This is not a joke. And take the offer? I don’t even know what you need to think.

**Gilbert Blythe (13:41): You’re mental. What were you even thinking, making Yang call for that?

**Fred (13:41): Obviously, both the hospital’s and yours best interests 🤗 Because for once, they’re compatible. And he mentioned the topic, so I just gave him my opinion, as usual 🙃 

**Gilbert Blythe (13:42): You realize how weird that call was, right? That you were there and… everything? 

**Fred (13:41): You realize how little I care? 😉 Go back to your family, Blythe. Say hi. Tell Bash I’m actually expecting those ciders he mentioned 😋 I won't even share them 🙈

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything you hoped Anne's meeting with Delly would be? Remember we still have some days left on this holiday, so what do you imagine will happen over there? Oh, and Yang and his offer with Fred being nosy? Of course we have no idea how hospitals, or teaching hospitals come to that, work. So just give us some slack in that regard, we're just having fun with this story ;) Well, tell us every theory you have! We love to know.
> 
> So... something unexpected and super special happened. Let Me In Anne decided to share her beautifully curated instagram account with us (@callmecordelia_lmi) (thank you, Jane!) and then Mary, Bash, Freddie, Gilbert... started joining, using the story accounts with lmi at the end (gilbertblythe_lmi, beardad_lmi, bashfromtrini_lmi, marycooks_lmi, mackenzie.official_lmi). If you want to join, it's super, super fun. The amount of teasing Gilbert is receiving is both unexpected and merciless :) And so much fun.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!
> 
> So... Delly might have her own fan club now, because she is so cute. And you're all worried about dr. Yang's proposal. And loving Mary's talks with Anne. Which is all great! There are also many questions, let's hope that this chapter answers at least one of them, and that you get some good laughs out of it.
> 
> Here's the music for today: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4q9ZPwXI3kx4U6Gdu1SCaL?si=qNJhJBBQQq6whAyzNhBHvA

The next day passed quickly. Bash and Gilbert had taken advantage of the visit and had scheduled many appointments. All boring business, he assured Anne, but things that needed to be done at some point anyway. So he was locked in the office most of the day. When he wasn’t working with Bash, he was reading the paperwork dr. Yang had sent him and texting Fred about his doubts and concerns, including how to tell Anne and how she might feel about the whole thing.

Anne had an appointment with Patel and they tried to go deeper into the insecurity she felt about the future when Anne commented on it, and how it trailed all the way back to the orphanage days. They reviewed the nightmares she’d had over the past few days, looking for a meaning behind the pattern that Anne could correlate with her current worries.

They also talked about trust. Not only her worries about trusting herself to let go with Gilbert (she was increasingly comfortable with that), but also about the trust she shared with those closest to her. How was trust present in all the relations she considered the closest ones. How it was different with each person, and how that was good. 

With Diana, she had always had an inherent fear of somehow being less, even if she knew it was irrational, even when she was the dearest bosom friend anyone in the world could ever even imagine. She loved her so, but she could never be with her who she was with Gilbert. Unapologetically herself. 

With Cole, it was pure desperation and the fear of being alone in their own weirdness that had brought them together as kindred spirits, a closeness out of everything they trusted they could be for each other, and it had grown and grown from there. But still, even after all these years, the knowledge of their own fragility laid a base not of reserve, but of sheer worry of losing each other. But she would trust him, as well as Diana, with her life. Jerry as well.

With Jerry… He was there, because they were siblings out of their hearts, an understanding that was beyond liking each other. One didn’t choose family, even when you already had one or were an orphan, and they were like that: harsh truths without embellishments, sarcasm and pure love. An exasperated trust that the other was going to be direct and honest, whether one liked it or not.

But Gilbert? He was always expansion, hope, the realm of possibilities combined into one person. The possibilities not only to be her quirky self, or her orphan,  _ I’m from a tiny farm with the best of weird families _ self, but everything she could become. He saw her for what she had been, yes, but also for what she could become, and it had always helped her to be ever so lighter and grounded. To find herself, even.

This kind of trust was beyond anything she could ever imagine having with anyone else. It was just there, pulsating, waiting for her. He was both her best friend, but… also so much more than that, if she allowed herself to accept it. If she decided what she wanted in life, and how he fit in it, as she had talked with Mary the previous day.

She tried not to dwell on the session after it was over, instead spending the day quietly with Mary and Delly. Mainly with Delly, playing and telling her stories, seeing her practice on her new skates as she read a book, accepting when she proposed they danced together a choreography she had to study for her dance class.

“But, fairy Anne, you’re doing it all wrong!” Delly protested, going to the ipad to put on the song from the beginning. “You move your arms to the right and then to the front!”

“I’m so sorry, Delly,” Anne said, stifling a laugh.

She had always been a lost hope for choreographies. Acting? Bring it on. She could learn all the lines. Be as histrionic as needed. Choreographies? She messed right with left. Delly, however, seemed to be a master of organized dancing. Mary had given her a heads up when Delly had insisted on taking Anne to the upstairs playroom to practice the steps she had been learning in her zoom dance class.

And so they were trying. Delly, to learn to have patience. Anne, to actually do whatever Delly was telling her to. All to the catchy rhythm of _ Sugar Suga _ r by The Archies on repeat. Mary had called the whole thing a lost hope and had gone downstairs to bake some chocolate chip cookies and brew some tea for when Bash and Gilbert decided to call it a day.

“Ok, so your arm goes to the front when the leg of the other side does it, ok, fairy Anne?”

“Right leg and left arm?”

“Yes!”

“Ok, let’s do this Delly!” Anne said, a small frown of concentration. Right leg and left arm, she thought, not realizing that Bash and Gilbert were on the door, trying not to laugh at the scene developing in front of them. Delly went to the ipad and put the song from the beginning. 

“Now!” the girl said, and they started with the first few steps, which Anne had already nailed down. Anne got lost at the same spot as last time. “No, fairy Anne! You started with the wrong foot!”

“Did I?” she asked, confused. Gilbert watched as Anne tried again, how Delly was trying to show her the steps as the song carried on, and he went over them.

“How about you dance with me, Delly-beans?” he said, offering his hands and starting to waltz around the space. Bash laughed.

“Uncle Gilby, you’re doing it all wrong!”

“Am I?” he asked, as Anne laughed.

“There’s a very defined choreography for this, dr. Blythe,” she said, a solemn voice but wicked smile.

“There is! And fairy Anne can’t seem to learn it!” Delly insisted. “Look!” she said, going over to the ipad and putting it from the beginning. “I’ll show it to you, so you know how to dance!”

She started the well practiced, dance-school steps and Gilbert and Anne followed for a moment, before starting to dance in whatever steps crossed their mind as Bash laughed, Mary catching up to see what all the laughs were about. They looked at each other’s eyes knowingly for a second, before Mary put her arm around his waist as he recorded the dancing. Anne and Gilbert really looked more carefree, happier together than each would ever admit. It was just so good for them to finally be together.

“But you’re doing it wrong again! Uncle Gilby! Fairy Anne!” she stopped and looked at them reproachfully. “Momma, tell them they’re doing it wrong!”

“Well, there is more than one way to dance, sweet pea,” Mary explained. “And they are all good, except when you have a team and you’re doing a presentation. There you need to agree on the steps.” Finally the song died down, all laughing. 

“So, you’re done for the day?” Anne asked them. 

“We are. All looking good, thanks to Bash,” Gilbert said, smiling to his brother. He still had on the bowtie he had been using for the day’s meetings. Even if by zoom, he needed to look as professional as possible. Bash was the same, wearing a tie and a button up shirt… and some sweatpants, that didn’t appear on camera, as he had explained to Mary when she had raised an eyebrow in the morning.

“So now you’re done working uncle Gilby? Now we go for ice cream?” Delly asked, reminding him of a promise he had made early on the day. But he actually wanted to speak with Mary and Bash. Without Anne close.

“Tell you what, Delly-beans. Why don’t you go ahead with fairy Anne and we will meet you? What do you say? An adventure only with her?” he proposed. Anne looked at him, frowning. This sounded a bit forced. “Would you do it, Carrots? We just have one last minute meeting that came up over the afternoon… But we’ll be done in half an hour tops, and we’ll meet you in the park.”

“You can take my car, Queen Anne,” Bash offered before she could even answer. Delly looked at her, expectant eyes. “You do drive, right?”

“Eh… sure! How is the place called? I don’t know anything around here… Got your mask, Delly?” she asked. She wasn’t really fond of driving and hadn’t done it for months, but she could take the kid for ice cream. The girl went out running to look for one as Bash sent her the location quickly. “Ok, I’ll guess I’ll see you there?”

“Yes, we’ll text you as soon as we’re on our way,” Gilbert assured her. “I’m sorry about this…”

“Don’t be, I understand. I’ll just go for my purse and a mask, and we’ll be going,” she said, leaving the playroom. Not a minute later they heard the sound of Bash’s car. Neither of them had spoken a word.

“So what’s the thing you desperately need to discuss so in private with both of us, Gilly-boy?” Bash asked him, going to sit on the couch, surrounded by Delly’s stuffed animals. Mary joined him, grabbing an old fox that uncle Gilby had brought Delly to the hospital when she was born. Gilbert scratched his nape and went to sit in the rocking chair opposite to them.

“I’m at a loss of what to do,” he confessed. Neither of his siblings said anything. “Nevermind, I know what I want. God, I’m so sure about it. But I don’t want to mess up again. And I need your advice in order to… not do so.”

“What is what you so clearly want?”

“If I could get away with it? Marry her tonight, have her study for that thing she wants and move to a house on the mountain, close to the forest, where we could raise a family and have cats and dogs, friends visiting. God, I want red-haired kids more than anything. I’m so ready for it,” he said, not even thinking. Both Mary and Bash smiled. Genuine, big, accepting smiles. “But I know for a thing if I even propose today that’ll just push her away. So I don’t know how to… reconcile all of this.”

“You do have to have patience, Gilbert,” Mary said after a moment. “It’s not that she doesn’t love you. I think it’s clear she does. It’s more about… her not being so clear about what she wants for her future. Have you thought about that?”

“Of course! Hence her going back to study!”

“Not on that level, boy. On her deciding where to live her life. What to do with it. Yes, studying might be a part of that answer, but it’s only a bit.”

“Have you even talked about her living with you? Or is it just an assumption you have?”

“Well she is legally living there…” Gilbert said, half heartedly.

“Legally, maybe. On her mind? Does she truly know she has a home there, Gilbert? Because that’s what she’s always longed for. Since both of you were kids. So have you given her that assurance so she can stop her search?” Mary asked him. He bit his lips. 

“Do you think I’m mental? I mean, I know I've only been with her for some weeks…” he asked, feeling insecure about if what his heart wanted was even right after so little time.

“Gilbert, in your mind you’ve been with her for half your life. It’s not that surprising,” Mary said.

“John used to tell me that, you know? When we would stay home working and you were off with her. He would say that Gilly-boy, he might not know it yet, but that’s the girl for him,” Bash commented, and Gilbert felt a knot on his throat.

“He said that?” he asked, trying to fight the tears on his eyes.

“Of course he did. I don’t invent stuff your father said, he would come hunt me if I did. I just never thought about sharing that before. What would have been the purpose? But he would so approve of this. He always thought of her ray of sunshine as part of the family anyway, this would only make it official. He would approve of you going after her, 100%. He’d probably be egging you on it. So do it, Blythe, or god helps me, I’ll set you up,” Bash declared. Gilbert smiled sadly.

“But don’t scare her! One thing at a time, Gilbert, please!” Mary pleaded, the voice of reason that she was. Gilbert sighed.

“And how do I know any timing for this? How on earth am I supposed to know when she’s ready when I’ve been at that point since always?” he asked after a few minutes.

“For one, when she is comfortable telling the world about the two of you. When she knows home is with you and not somewhere abstract back in PEI. You’ll know when the time comes, Blythe, trust me,” Bash said. Gilbert scoffed.

“Yeah right, coming from the guy who proposed on the third date,” Gilbert said sarcastically.

“Great communication skills, Gilly-boy! Something you could get some use of!” Bash teased him. Gilbert threw him a stuffed bear. “But in all seriousness, Gilbert, you will know when she has no doubts in her mind. She has been there for as long as you’ve been, only she takes more time to accept things than you do. You’re not going mental. This is not going too fast unless you force it. It is evolving, and will evolve, naturally. If you allow it.”

“So you’re saying it will make sense in the end?” Gilbert asked, feeling much more confident about not going crazy after having voiced his concerns with his family.

“Of course. We’ve been telling you that for years and look where you are now. With her on a holiday. Together. Letting her take Delly for ice cream… we should probably be on our way, you know? Before the kid convinces her that she’s allowed three scoops?”

“Delly, you pick one flavour and I pick one, that’s the deal, ok?” Anne said. Because the last thing she needed was a four-year-old with a sugar rush. “What’s your favourite?”

“Butterscotch! Yours?”

“Here…” Anne looked quickly at the selection, almost all dairy. “Grapefruit sorbet.” They sat outside five minutes later, each holding a one-scoop bowl. “So, Delly, tell me… what were these stories about fairy Anne that uncle Gilby told you?”

“Well, they’re all about you! So you must know them! All about how you saved the forest with Foxie friend!” Delly answered. “You were in them, how can you not remember?”

“Well, I just want to know your perspective,” she said. “You know, so I can tell you all the details you don’t know yet,” she added conspiratorially. But she only wanted to know what Gilbert had told this girl for her to like her so much.

“He said you were the kindest fairy... And that fairy Anne always fights for what is fair. So fairy Anne fighted for the rights of all the animals. She tried to save a squirrel once, but the squirrel didn’t understand it at first. But that didn’t stop fairy Anne from doing the right thing so she told all the animals of the forest how a mean cat was bad with the squirrel. And there was also one story about how she met Foxie. And how they had a magical library in the woods where each leaf from each tree would tell a story and hold a wish. And then in the fall each leaf would change the colour as the wishes came true, and the trees would prepare during the winter to hold all the new wishes. And Pilbert…”

“Pilbert?” Anne interrupted her, trying to contain her laughs. Pilbert? Oh, he was never living this down. Pilbert.

“Well of course Pilbert, fairy Anne! How can you not recognize your friend? Pilbert the fox, of course! He is Foxie, but his real real name is Pilbert… did you forget that when you were at sea?”

“At sea?”

“Come  _ on _ , fairy Anne!” Delly said, as if it was obvious and Anne somehow knew what she was talking about. “So Pilbert, or Foxie, would always hope for fairy Anne, because they are super super good friends you know? So Foxie would wait for her to come back from the faraway land where she is helping… in the sea… And there are mermaids, of course, because fairy Anne would save all the animals from the earth and the sea… But she was very busy in the sea so Foxie would wait and wait for her. And there was one time when she was very very unhappy about her hair, because she didn’t understand how it was the colour of fire and of leaf-wishes coming true… So she tried to change it, and Uncle Gilby always said to me to accept myself as I am and not do what fairy Anne did, you know? Because she turned her hair green, thinking she was going to have even more magical hair, but it didn’t happen and she had to take it all off… but at least she didn’t lose her super powers, because that would have been so so sad, don’t you think fairy Anne? Did you really take your hair off?”

“I… did, yes. But you should totally listen to uncle Gilby, he’s right about accepting yourself,” she said.

“I do now, because I wanted different hair before but I wouldn’t risk it now that I know how bad it can get thanks to fairy Anne… And then there was a story where the fairy wanted to play with all the real kids, you know? Because she had friends all over the forest, all the animals were her friends, but she put on a magical disguise just so she could be a boy for one day… But Pilbert saw fairy Anne for what she was, and she was already perfect, so she didn’t need to make any disguises for that… And then fairy Anne went to look for more fairies like her… And Foxie helped her look under every rock and into every cave, until they found something… But he would always tell her that she really didn’t need to find all the fairies when they were such a good team together and that they could have a home together, but fairy Anne still went to the sea to look for the mermaids… Look! There is uncle Gilby!” she said, signaling to the parking lot. Gilbert was coming with Bash and Mary, looking carefree and happy. Anne looked at him and waited for them to come over.

“So, how are you, Pilbert? How come you’re hiding your secret identity from sweet Delly?” Gilbert turned red instantly. What had the little girl told Anne? Delly was looking at them, eyes wide, mouth open.

“Uncle Gilby, you really are Pilbert?” she asked, so impressed. Like, fairy Anne being real? That was incredible. But Pilbert as well? Inconceivable. Bash and Mary stayed behind, laughing with no mercy.

“He is, Delly… He just didn’t want to tell you before,” Anne said in a low voice.

“But you’re not a fox!” she countered, frowning.

“Sh…. don’t let that out, Delly! Most people can’t see it, but if you really try, you can see that I am totally one. Only I disguise myself as human, you know?” Gilbert whispered, squatting in front of her. Delly turned her head slightly and then nodded.

“Ok! But you should have told me before, Pilbert!”

“You can still call me uncle Gilby, you know? So we don’t let out my secret identity?” he winked. Because he really didn’t want to be called Pilbert. Delly nodded. “So, what flavour is your ice cream? Give me a spoon?”

“No, get your own, uncle Gilby! Fairy Anne only let me have one scoop…” she said sadly, because uncle Gilby always gave her two scoops. Gilbert laughed, amazed at Anne’s talent for convincing the girl. 

They went to the park that was down the street, and the four adults gave in to Delly’s prompts for plays, making silly faces and acting however she asked, enjoying the carefree moment as they snapped pictures. Gilbert and Anne were not self-conscious around Mary and Bash, who made them feel in between family and at ease. They didn’t even notice as Bash took some pictures of them together when they sat on the grass, Delly happy in the playground and Mary resting on her back. Anne was really just enjoying being close to Gilbert, her head half resting on his chest as he caressed her cheek and gave her tiny kisses on the top of the head. Bash’s tropical ringtone went off and he stood, going closer to the playground as he talked in French.

“That was Simon,” he told Mary as he came back. “They’re going through with it, making a barbecue out of it to handle it outdoors… And keeping it small.”

“Small as in?”

“There’s going to be six of us in total, which is well below the allowed ten, so I guess it should be ok. And quite noticeable if we didn’t go.”

“Do you need to be somewhere? Don’t worry about us, we can manage,” Gilbert said. “Even look after Delly, if you need.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Positive. Where are you going anyway?”

“Simon and Lucille. Those are some close friends here, they’re doing a gender reveal tiny dinner. They want me as godfather so they want us to be there and not over zoom as the rest of the guests,” Bash explained.

“Good for you, Bash!” Anne said, smiling happily. “Of course we don’t mind looking after Delly, consider it done.”

“You kids behave,” Bash said on his way out, adjusting his shirt. Anne felt herself blush, feeling seventeen all of a sudden.

“Seriously, Bash?” Gilbert asked him, skeptical. Mary patted her husband’s shoulder.

“Bash, they’re about thirty. Finally together. They do live together and all. Let them be. Just be careful with Delly, please? She’s not supposed to be up after 8:30,” Gilbert nodded. That was easy, the kid always slept like a log. “Ok, we’ll see you tomorrow. Again, a thousand apologies for this, we just couldn’t move it.”

“Good thing is you have uncle Gilby here to babysit, right?” asked Gilbert, smiling. He did love his niece to pieces. His family laughed, and they were out the door. “So, Delly-beans, what’s the plan for tonight?”

“Beauty and the Beast! And cheesy!”

“Cheesy?” Anne asked.

“Pizza is cheesy, fairy Anne,” Delly answered, as if it was the most evident answer in the world, walking to the kitchen. Gilbert shrugged and they followed her. “Shouldn’t fairies know all cheeses?”

“Is she supposed to eat that at this hour?”

“When she’s with uncle Gilby, the only rule is bedtime,” Gilbert winked at her, and Anne rolled her eyes.

“Please don’t be like that with your future kids?”

“Our future kids?” Gilbert corrected kindly, going to the phone and leaving Anne frozen in the door. He wanted her to picture it. The idea of a family with him. How great could that be? Was it fast? Maybe. As fast as some others? Surely not. Now that he had spoken with Bash and Mary, he just had so much clarity he didn’t want to beat around the bush. “Ok, Delly… So where are we getting this pizza?”

“From the freezer, uncle Gilby! That’s where pizza comes from! Mamma alwaaaaays takes it out from there! But let fairy Anne cook it, I’m sure she’s the bestest of the best,” Anne laughed and went over where Delly was trying to open the heavy freezer drawer. Soon they were eating the frozen pizza (Anne had found with surprise that Mary had stocked up in one of the vegan brands available), even convincing Delly to add veggies after she told her a fantastical story of how the cherry tomatoes just blushed at the sight of the spinach.

“So, she’s asleep?” Anne asked Gilbert as he came back to the living room, turning off the light and leaving only the glow from the tv. She was snuggled on the sofa, tired after all the day’s antics, changing to Netflix after having surfed Disney+ for more than enough time for one night.

“Like a log. She just can’t stop and then gets really tired. She didn’t make it through the whole story,” he answered, going to the sofa and standing in front of her. He caressed gently her cheek and she leaned into it, not taking his eyes off hers. They hadn’t really had two minutes completely alone in the whole week and he was getting antsy. Taking some loose hairs and putting them behind her ear, he left his hand at the nape of her neck, holding her gently, watching how her mouth was slightly open.

“Gil?”

“Shh… I’m just watching you,” he whispered, because he hadn’t had a chance to fully see her in days. He felt some tension grow as she returned his gaze, until he couldn’t hold it any longer and leaned to kiss her. He had intended it to be a chaste kiss, but as she corresponded the kiss licking his lower lip and then nibbling it, he knew she was having none of it. He explored her mouth, deepening the kiss and feeling the need he had had inside for days finally find some release. He broke it off after a moment, but stayed close to her, still standing in front of her.

“Come here, I’ve missed you these days,” Anne whispered, scooting over to the side and leaving a narrow space next to her where Gilbert laid down, hugging her.

“Me too. More than you can tell,” he said softly to her ear, holding her close to his chest, as she felt shivers go down her spine. “What are we watching?”

“I don’t know. Something I’ve seen already… I don’t have the mind to pay attention.”

“Friends?”

“Sounds good,” she answered, choosing the series and putting play from the chapter where Bash and Mary had left last. She traced his chest with her fingers, running one along the suspender, up and down to his pants, hearing how his heart started beating a bit harder.

“Anne…” he warned her. Because he really wanted her, and it had been really hard to keep off at night. He tried to read himself to sleep, not wanting to do anything with Mary and Bash in the same house. He was pretty sure she was in the same situation. Especially after that first night, when Bash had knocked on the door just as something was starting to form.

“What?”

“You know what. Stop it, please, it’s hard enough as it is,” he said, trying to concentrate on Phoebe taking her bike for a stroll.

Anne didn’t move her finger, instead tracing the outline of his pants. Just hearing his strained voice and his quickened heartbeat turned her even on more. She moved her legs, uncomfortable, the feeling that was now getting more and more familiar of a certain moist heat on her underwear appearing. He hadn’t given her more than a chaste kiss since Wednesday and she was going a bit crazy. She wanted him. And waiting until Sunday seemed like waiting for the pandemic to be over.

“Carrots, I’m serious here. No teasing,” he insisted, his voice clipped and low.

“Didn’t you just say Delly is sleeping like a log?” Anne asked in a soft voice as her hand trailed lower, feeling over his pants how he was already hard, even when he was trying to play the detached and reasonable one. He breathed deeply at her touch.

“I… did,” he whispered, not sure about what she had in mind. She held his hand with her free one and took it slowly to her breast. She had gone a bit before to take her bra off, just anticipating this opportunity might actually happen and noticing she was already excited at the prospect. “Anne, what…?”

“I just want to enjoy this night, I’ve missed you. And Bash and Mary said they’re not coming back before midnight. It’s not even nine,” she murmured in his ear, not knowing how she had come to be so bold. Maybe it was the need she felt for him to touch her. She actually didn’t know and didn’t care, she just wanted him. She nibbled the spot on his neck she knew was the most sensitive before adding, low, “We can be quiet… not wake her up, you know?”

“Goodness, Anne. You wicked, wicked Carrot,” he mumbled as she held his erection through his pants and he felt whatever resolution to maintain the facade of a responsible adult fade.

What harm could there be? Delly had a history of sleeping through Bash and Mary’s very loud dinner parties. They were known for coming back late. They were not going to get caught, really. Reaching his decision, he propped himself and straddled her, kissing her deeply, his tongue exploring hers as his hand explored her breast under her t-shirt, supporting himself on the other one. She moaned, and he retreated a bit. 

“As much as I love every single sound you make, let’s try not to wake the toddler, ok?” he hushed her gently. Anne giggled and readjusted herself, moving to unbutton his shirt. He pushed her hand gently. “I prefer not...just in case,” he whispered into her ear, and the idea that they could indeed be caught at any moment turned her on even more. She moved her hands to put down the suspenders. He shrugged those off and she moved to undo his pants’ button and zipper as he kissed her neck. He let one hand roam lower, pushing her skirt up.

“Yes, Gil... “ she whispered as she felt his fingers hover over her panties, just as she pushed his erection out of his boxers, tugging them just a bit down.

“How is it… heavens, Anne, you’re so wet…”

“I… I just need you,” she said, because that was her only explanation. She did. Now. Badly. Going without him for ten years had been horrible. But then getting a taste of him, only to stop? Her need went so deep inside her she couldn’t even point to the source. He rolled down her knickers, only above her knees.

“So you need me, Carrots?” he whispered, as she started moving her hand up and down his hardness. “Good god, Anne… yes, just like that.”

“Please, Gil…” she said to him, and he put two fingers in her with no more preamble, causing her to stifle a moan in her elbow. He made small circles with his thumb. She was so wet. So warm. They locked their eyes, a hand on each others’ center, both flushed, eyes dilated.

Anne felt his fingers move inside her and she thrusted in them, but it didn’t feel enough. She wanted him. All of him. Now. Yesterday. She groaned, coming so close, and he noticed it by how the rhythm of her hand became erratic at best, how she was biting her lips to contain the moans he had worked so hard to free in the previous weeks.

“Yes, Carrots, come for me,” he whispered, picking up the pace, feeling how his fingers felt the spasms of her pleasure as she bit her lips even harder, her eyes shutting hard as she tensed completely, the feeling now more familiar, but still surprising. He looked at her, smiling, still feeling like there was not a better view in the world than seeing her become undone.

“I want you, Gil,” she forced herself to say, in spite of her breathlessness. Because for the first time, an orgasm elicited by Gilbert Blythe was not enough. She wanted him. Inside her. As his fingers had been. Deeper. Now. “All of you. Now,” she insisted, as she saw conflict in his eyes. His erection still in her hands, she put the tip at her entrance, just there, a fraction of an inch inside, teasing him. Daring him to move away when she was so close. Needing him not to move away because this need she felt was raw and new and so insistent she was not above putting him in her if he didn’t move already.

Gilbert felt her moistness, her inviting folds, just there, waiting for him to take them. Inviting him in. His hips hitched closer and he worked hard to contain them, tensing his muscles, trying to breath. Swallowing. Her eyes were full, dilated, pure need and lust.

“Anne, we didn’t…” he tried to reason. Even when he didn’t want to reason. He wanted her, had wanted her for days, for weeks, for years, and he was just there. “We didn’t get the condoms and…”

“I don’t care. Just you. Now. Please, Gilbert, I need you now,” she said, thrusting slightly forward, his tip a bit deeper, a moan escaping her throat only with this taste of him on her, the anticipation. He wanted this. So much he couldn’t really describe it. And what was the worst that could happen? Them, ending with a kid of their own. Realizing that a kid with Anne was not a bad outcome at all, he lowered into her completely, a deep groan he couldn’t have controlled even if he had tried. Feeling how tight she was, how warm, how slick in her moistness, his mind was blank. This was beyond anything. This was it. “Gilbert,” she moaned in awe. This was not supposed to feel this way. This full. This warm. This good. Yet it did. Everyone was right.

“Anne,” he answered, his voice hoarse and raspy, his heart beating so hard. He still didn’t move, afraid to do so, feeling he would just come undone if he did. This felt too powerful to be true. This was to become one with her. There was no physical way to be closer to her. And it felt so good. He moved slightly then, causing her to stifle another moan, not being able to contain one himself. 

“Gil, please,” she pleaded, trying to keep her voice down. She needed him to move. To do something to relieve this tension she felt. She moved her hips, nudging him to do anything, please, and he seemed to catch the idea as he started a deep, slow rhythm. She moaned again, not able to contain it this time as she saw the muscles on his neck tense, his arms supporting him, this rhythm something she couldn’t quite handle. “Gilbert, yes.”

“Uncle Gilby?” they heard. Gilbert froze instantly, coming flush to her chest so the back of the sofa would cover him. Sweaty fabric between them. He saw all blood flee from Anne’s face. “I am thirsty…”

“I’ll be right there with you, Delly-Beans,” he answered, trying to sound as if he was relaxed and didn’t have a wilting erection inside Anne. “Shit,” he mumbled. He rolled to the side and tried pushing his pants all the way up again, closing the zipper quickly before getting up. “So, thirsty, eh? Come, let’s get you some water…” 

Anne heard their soft steps disappear into the kitchen and got up as well, adjusting her underwear quickly and trying to ignore the void she felt. Wait a moment. Void. They had been having sex not two minutes ago! On a sofa. On Mary and Bash’s sofa. Gilbert had just been inside her. All of him! And it hadn’t hurt! It had actually felt glorious... But unless he was a magician… there had not been a condom in all this. He had even mentioned it and she had pressured him. Shit! She had just had sex with Gilbert Blythe! Shit shit shit. This was not supposed to happen, not like this! Fuck. His… shit, when had she had her period last time? Shit, they were not teens to fool around like this! 

“Carrots, you’re ok?” Gilbert asked worriedly as he saw her pace from one side of the living room to the other, muttering under her breath, a deep frown in her forehead as she counted something with her fingers, the other hand scratching her head. 

“Gilbert we just had sex,” she said straight to his face and saw him smile dumbly, like Christmas was just around the corner and he still believed in Santa. She kept walking, growling frustratedly. “Gilbert. Sex. No protection. How aren’t you freaked? I’m freaked. Shit. Fuck. How could I...” both hands went to her head, pushing the hair off her face and grabbing it somewhat desperately. 

“Anne-girl, come here,” he said, sitting on the sofa and lifting an arm, inviting her to cuddle in his chest. She went willingly, wanting the safety he represented, and he hugged her, caressing her soothingly. “I’m not freaked because the chances of a pregnancy are quite slim when there’s no ejaculation. They exist because of the pre-cum, yes, but so slim. Even if there had been, I’d still not be freaked. We could buy a pill if that’s what you’d prefer. And if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. I’m here with you. I’ll be here no matter what. This…. this is it for me. Just remember that, that my love for you really has no bounds,” he told her as he held her, his cheek on her head, his arms holding her and caressing her back. She breathed into his shirt, the scent now more familiar than anything else. 

“What could be the chances? Still? With the… pre-cum and all?” she asked softly. She was not ready to be a mother. Even less an unemployed, stranded mother who still didn’t know exactly what was happening with the father in question. She loved him, yes, but PEI still called her. If it wasn’t for that and her… joblessness, she could actually think about the subject. Consider it seriously. Because damn, she had always wanted to be a mother. He sighed, trying to remember any fact from medical school. Reproduction had never been his strong suit.

“Well… I… It would depend a lot on where you are on your cycle, Anne. I remember there was a rate of between 20% to 30% of chances of getting pregnant using the withdrawal method? But I can’t really remember. If you’re not on your fertile window it really doesn’t matter.”

“And how am I supposed to know that? Now?”

“Now? Hard to tell. We could try to guess, if you’re going to lose sleep over it, I suppose,” he answered, feeling a bit lost. “When is your period coming next? How long is your cycle?” he asked, and as Anne pulled out an app she used to track it, Gilbert looked for something on a cloud drive where he still kept random notes and soon it felt like they were researching for a biology project. Bottom line? Chances were close to zero, and Anne curled in his chest again, sighing, much more relaxed.

They fell into a comfortable silence, Gilbert just cuddling her, holding her as close as he could. Delly or not, coming or not, this night still felt precious to him. Anne fell asleep quickly, the adrenaline of the night wearing away, melting under Gilbert’s patient and soothing caresses. He continued to cuddle with her, even when her breathing eased away, caressing the line of her jaw, feeling how soft her braid was, giving small kisses to the top of her head.

“Look how cute they are,” Bash said suddenly, surprising Gilbert. He hadn’t heard them come in and catch him in the middle of a cuddling session with a peacefully asleep Anne.

“How was dinner?” Gilbert asked softly, not wanting to wake her.

“Good, but cut short. Nothing to be done. But hey, we got to go out. Thanks for watching Delly, by the way,” Bash answered him, voice low, Mary still holding his hand. Gilbert nodded.

“I’m taking her to bed. I think Delly wore her out more than she cared to admit,” he said, trying to adjust her so he could stand up. Bash went over and helped him get steady as Anne burrowed her face in his neck as if she was a kid. 

“You’re ok?”

“She doesn’t weigh that much, honest. I’ll see you both tomorrow, thanks for everything,” he said, starting to walk towards the guest bedroom.

“Blythe? Make a move already and propose? That moke face will give you away before you know it,” Bash told him, winking. Mary swatted his arm playfully. “And we are not waiting ten more years for this to happen, you hear me? Delly will be your flower girl and she still has the age for that!”

“Bash, honestly, not the best moment to discuss this,” Gilbert said. Anne might not weigh as much as Fred, the last adult before her he had carried anywhere, but she was not Delly either. And she could hear Bash and freak. Again. And they had been telling him only hours ago how he should wait until she was ready. “Night night.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We know you will ask, so here! A youtube video as reference for the choreography Delly was trying so hard to teach Anne: https://youtu.be/j0tGbV78C7M
> 
> Well, what did you think of the chapter? About Pilbert? About... well, everything? 
> 
> Oh! Maybe some of you didn't notice, but we published the second part of Freddie's story yesterday, in case you're interested :)


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning!  
> So, Delly stole the show... again? Out of cuteness and out of saving the day of the possibility of redheaded Blythes? A couple of things we want to point, because it was a recurrent worry in your comments:  
> 1\. Gilbert wouldn't force Anne to have a kid. If Delly hadn't showed up, or if after checking they saw that the risk of pregnancy was real and Anne was distressed, Gilbert would have proposed options so she felt comfortable and go with whatever she wanted. He knows she's not quite there yet even if he is. It's explained somewhere there... He said it to Anne. So there you have.  
> 2\. They know the other doesn't have any STD. They quickly went over it before Montreal, remember? And they trust the other's words. Sum to that that Anne has had two (very poor, yes) sexual partners in her life and has kept her medical check ups, and Gilbert has been all but celibate for five years (remember the guy doesn't even have condoms?) and is a doctor.... They're safe.  
> 3\. Fred and Ella are watering the plants. Petunia and Robert aren't dying.  
> Now, for today... are you ready? Here's the music: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Ri49YFpnSLb6coqcNA1lI?si=tWIT7u12Re2YP7vEdxukjg

Saturday was a family day in all accord. Starting with a huge brunch, courtesy of Mary’s catering business, they packed some snacks and went to a closeby national park. Delly was beyond excited to go to a forest with fairy Anne and Pilbert, and they didn’t disappoint. Growing up in the forest of Avonlea did mean they were great at recognizing seemingly insignificant stuff. 

Delly insisted on skating again in the late afternoon, and Gilbert was pleased to see how she had interiorized the lessons from the other day and seemed to have improved already. When she went to take a bath, he was feeling much more confident about her managing on her own, and Bash was breathing again after seeing her speeding up and then stopping.

“Hey hey, Anne-girl,” Gilbert said as he sat close to her on the back porch sofa later at dusk. “Almost didn’t find you, Bash and Mary rarely come to this side.

“Why wouldn't they come here? It has the most perfect view” she asked, turning to him.

“Perfect for you, I guess? They never got around finishing the yard here so Mary calls it a pain for the eyes or something… So, how are you doing?”

“So relaxed,” Anne answered, looking at him with a soft smile. “There is nothing that walking around nature can’t cure. And there’s nothing to finish here.”

“You’re right, of course,” he said, lifting his arm so she could snuggle close to him, which she did willingly. “That image of you in the woods… It blew my mind. Delly’s as well, I’m sure.”

“You’re kidding, Gil.”

“I’m not. If she thought before you might be a fairy I’m sure by now she is more than certain. It was like this perfect light between the leaves and how do you even get freaking butterflies to befriend you? I’ve never even gotten close to one and you had several  _ on _ you.”

“I guess we’re kindred spirits?”

“Yeah, of that I’m sure my fairy Anne,” Gilbert said, kissing the top of her head as they enjoyed the late evening. The sky was beginning to turn into all sorts of yellows and oranges, the clouds reflecting every colour. “I was just watching you and I couldn’t keep a song out of my head. I don’t even know where I heard it first. But there you were, in the middle of a forest, looking just like the mythical character I told Delly so many times about.”

“What song, Gil? You do know you’re too cute for your own good, right?” she said, taking his hand and giving him a kiss on the palm. He caressed her cheek.

“It’s called  _ Walking in the Air _ . From a singer that’s called Aurora,” he said. He sang softly a couple of verses, Anne feeling warm inside. Not only because of the summer heat. “ _ I'm walking in the air, I'm floating in a moonlit sky… _ Anyway. I’m so glad I managed to snap a couple of pictures of you before Delly went running and scared all the poor animals.”

“She only wanted to greet them!” Anne laughed, remembering how all the butterflies had all but disappeared in a matter of seconds.

“Yes, with the emotion of a four-year-old,” Gilbert chuckled. He caressed her arms softly and they stayed in silence for some minutes, reminiscing about the day. “I’ve always loved sunsets, you know?”

“I didn’t, actually,” Anne replied, adjusting so she could see his face. This was a new story, and she was all about Gilbert Blythe’s stories. Because they were so damn nice all the time, especially when John was involved.

“Yeah… When I was a kid, we would always take a walk at sunset. It didn’t matter what hour it was or if it was raining or snowing. We always went out. He had this idea that being outdoors was the best, you know?”

“That sounds like John,” Anne chuckled. John Blythe was as outdoorsy and adventurous as it got. Gilbert held her closer, chuckling as well.

“We had to stop going out at some point, as he got sick… But by then, you were into our lives, you know? And you had a knack of coming home to see him just at dusk,” Gibert continued.

“It’s just when I finished my chores! I didn’t do it on purpose, you know?”

“I have no idea, Carrots. I don’t even care about why you came at dusk. The point is that you did. And you still didn’t talk to me, so I would just wait for you to come in my room, because the view was to the street. And the sun always reflected your hair as if it was on fire and somehow dusk turned again into the highlight of my days,” Gilbert said, remembering a young Anne, just arrived at Green Gables, coming to see his sick father every day just because somehow they got along so well. And her hair glowing in the sunset. Then he hadn’t known as he knew now he would never be quite able to take her off his head, but he was already entranced by the magic she carried with her everywhere.

Anne turned to look at him. His eyes were lost in the distance, or perhaps in another time. He hadn’t really shaved this morning, as he hadn’t had any meeting, and his stub was no longer scratchy as it had been the previous evening but somehow softer. She caressed his cheek with her hand slowly, trailing her fingers slowly down his chin, trying to memorize it. Wanting to capture the moment in her memory, because this peace she was feeling with him right now, was new and not so scary and unsettling as it had felt before. Maybe she was coming to terms with something? Maybe it was just the holiday? She had no idea, but didn’t want to push it just yet. She continued tracing his face with her finger and saw him close his eyes, a peaceful expression.

He reached for her hand with the one he wasn’t hugging her with and took it to his mouth, giving her a kiss and then another one on the inside of the wrist. He smiled and opened his eyes again, to find Anne almost in front of him.

“Oh, hello, Carrots,” he said softly, teasingly. She smiled and leaned forward to his lips, giving him a slow kiss, licking slowly his lower lip, nibbling on it. He melted on it, corresponding fully and engaging in a play with her tongue as she tangled her hands in his curls.

“Where are Bash and Mary?” she asked in a low voice, knowing full well Delly was already in bed, already 9:00 in the evening, after breaking the kiss.

“They’re in a conference call with Elijah in the library upstairs. I already greeted him to make a nice appearance.” Anne chuckled, but then kissed him again and he corresponded, turning slightly so he could give her small kisses down her neck. 

“Chances of them coming down soon?” she whispered as she moved her head to expose more of her neck just so Gilbert could continue kissing her, still feeling they were sneaky teens.

“Close to zero, but you know how they tend to surprise...” he mumbled against her in between open-mouthed kisses. “We should probably…” he went for her collarbone, which each day fascinated him even more. “...keep off…” he said before tracing it slowly with his tongue, making Anne sigh and bite her lips. “...funny business.” Funny business or not, she wanted Gilbert and contemplated fleetingly the chances of Bash walking out on them before turning completely and straddling Gilbert, her flowy skirt covering them. “Whoa, Carrots…” he tried to protest, because there  _ was _ a chance of Bash or worse, Mary, finding them there. Even if slight, because the space was almost nonexistent in their minds.

But Anne just shut him, giving him a kiss deeper than the first one, trying to convey the need she had felt for him these days, that she was most definitely feeling now. She held his head by tangling one hand in his curls, the other one in his nape as it caressed him softly. Holding him there, just so, so she could kiss him how she had been longing to do for hours. 

Gilbert lost it. He forgot he was on the back porch of the LaCroix family on an old sofa and kissed her back as he felt how she moved slightly against him, a whimper caught in her throat. Tangling a hand on her hair, he put the other one in the low of her back, bringing her even closer to him and assisting her in weak, unconscious movements so she started doing them in earnest, feeling her against the erection that she had conveyed so quickly. God, he couldn’t wait to get home to finally make love to her the way he wanted, no sneaking around.

“Gil…” she whispered, looking at him in the eyes as they started to find a rhythm, trying to think the squeaking of the sofa really was not that noticeable.

Gilbert felt his phone buzz in his pocket but tried to ignore it. Anne’s was on the table, buzzing annoyingly against the crystal. He had missed kissing her so much this past few days, every time he was finally with her something interrupting… It wasn’t even like they were going to do anything on the porch sofa, but just kissing her was so good, he thought as he went back to kiss her on her mouth, deeper than before. If only his phone wasn’t buzzing so much. Even if this was not exactly “just kissing”.

“What  _ is _ going on?” Anne asked finally, a hoarse voice that made Gilbert’s insides get together in a knot, tired of the sound of the buzzing phone against the crystal of the table every few seconds and distracting her of the matter at hand. Which was taking advantage of the few minutes of solitude they had before Mary and Bash came down the stairs.

“Yours as well?” Gilbert asked, his own voice strained, and Anne retreated slightly, allowing him to take his phone from his pocket. She turned and stretched until she reached her own, still straddling him. First there was an instagram tag. And then many, many whatsapp messages.

_ Bashfromtini tagged you and @Callmecordelia in a post. _

“Oh no no no no…” Gilbert heard Anne say desperately, getting off him, as she saw the photo Bash had published. They were not kissing. But it was evident beyond any doubt, beyond anything they could ever invent, that they were together. There was no way to go around this. They might as well be kissing, hell, the photo was that intimate as Gilbert and her were snuggled on a picnic blanket, Gilbert hugging her, their faces so close as if the world didn’t exist beyond them. Well, Bash existed! And he was taking pictures! And publishing them! The picture might be beautiful, yes, but why was it on his instagram?! And of course, all the buzzing was from notifications from numerous chats. People who knew both of them. Many many many from the gang group chat. Fred. More people from Avonlea.

“Anne, they’re about to call,” Gilbert said, scanning the messages quickly and trying to somewhat flatten his hair, to think of any way to hide the blush that clearly was on both of their faces. Maybe the imminent darkness would do?

“What? No. I’m not speaking to them,” she said.

“Carrots, what’s the point in this? They were going to find out… I wish it wasn’t like this, but think of it like a plaster? Maybe it’s better this way? Quick and easy?”

“No no no no Gil. I’m not ready for this,” she insisted, a bit pale. “I hate their surprise calls!”

“Ready for what? Them knowing? What difference is it going to make anyway? Or ready to be with me?” Gilbert asked, between annoyed, worried and desperate, but she didn’t get a chance to answer as a facetime call by Charlie came in and soon they were in front of all of Avonlea’s gang.

“Finally!!” 

“Guuuys I’m sooo happy!” Ruby actually had tears in her eyes and Moody, a huge smile, was holding her close trying to soothe her.

“Fucking well hidden, you had this! How long has this been going?” Josie said, feigning annoyance but evidently happy.

“And you were hiding from us? Your biggest supporters?” Tillie said with a smile. Diana was just smiling, as was Cole, a knowing look and a twinkle in his eyes. This time, it hadn’t been him who had spilled the beans.

“Why didn’t you tell?” 

“I’m pretty sure they’ve been too busy… doing stuff…” Charlie commented as he snickered.

Anne just looked at them, wide eyes, not even knowing what to do with all this approval. She had expected mocking. Teasing. Bad jokes. But everyone looked so unbelievably happy and it clashed with all the reservations she still had. Gilbert held her close, not anymore restraining himself in front of the camera, his smile huge. He had not planned for the news to go out like this but he was not going to complain. It was finally out. They could be open and a couple with all their loved ones. He gave her a small kiss on the temple, trying to calm her down, and Tillie, Jane and especially Ruby almost cried in joy.

“Well, tell us!” Jane said, excited. “I’m sure I’m not the only one who wants to know the whole story! How did this happen? When?”

“Guys, honestly, it’s not been that long…” Gilbert said, but he really had no idea, now that he thought of it. It seemed like they had been together since always, but at the same time, it seemed like yesterday.

“When? We want a date!” Josie said.

“Jose, it’s not like we’re counting the days or anything…” Gilbert explained.

“But how are you going to celebrate your anniversaries?!” asked Ruby, full of worry. Anne actually laughed.

“I think neither of us is that much into anniversaries, Rubs,” she answered, talking finally. Only Ruby would worry about that. Gilbert chuckled as well, never one to think of that. He was so glad to be with her, he could as well celebrate every day. And eventually, at some point in life, they would marry. And that would be an anniversary worth celebrating.

“So how did it happen?” asked Jane. “I want the true story, too. Were you fighting? Yelling out of your senses and ending up making out?” Anne blushed, because she was certain that had been on the verge of happening more than once.

“It wasn’t like that, Jane. It would make a great story… But it wasn’t,” Gilbert said, smiling and shaking his head. He remembered one of their fights. The big one. When he had actually considered kissing her to see if that solved anything.

“SO?” Charlie asked. “If I’m losing a bet, then at least I deserve to know the real story!”

“You’re losing a bet? What the hell, Charlie?” Anne asked, frowning. Charlie laughed, as did Tillie, Jane and Josie as Diana rolled her eyes and Cole snickered.

“The bet we’ve had for years of how you’re going to end up together, of course. I always thought a fight would do it.”

“So what other options are there?” Gilbert asked, impressed. “And how long has this been going on?”

“Grade twelve,” said Josie, her face straight.

“You’re wrong. Grade eleven. The hockey final,” countered Tillie. Anne and Gilbert laughed at the absurdity of the whole thing. “And… Well, Charlie said during a fight. Josie as well. So that’s two losers. Other options were… Anne declaring her undying love for you in graduation, which of course went to hell… And then you manage to get her to speak to you as you confessed how you’ve been irreparably damaged since she hit you with the slate…”

“Oh! Don’t forget, interrupting the other’s wedding!” Jane said, laughing. “I oppose!”

“Are you actually being serious?” Anne asked. This could not be real.

“Of course not. The sensible one was the fighting one. But when we saw you living together in Hamilton it woke up again. And fighting was a great contender. There was also… One of you just going for it in the kitchen, my bet was for Anne to go, Moody said Gilbert would break sooner” Tillie explained. She extended a finger for each bet. “Ruby said, of course, Gilbert would prepare this romantic outing to confess his love. And then Jane said it would be something utterly boring like watching tv and ending making out. Cole said something about you trying to console Anne and then kissing her… Which doesn’t make any sense. Diana, as always, is too proper to bet, and Jerry said you would probably be sharing a bed before actually even kissing and then go from there, because that’s how much in denial you both are. So, how was it? Who’s winning?”

“May we ask what you were betting and what will happen if it goes vacant?” Gilbert asked, trying to contain his laugh. Anne was just shaking her head in disbelief at how any of them could have won this stupid nonsense. How good must they know them to have such accurate scenarios in their minds? Excluding Ruby, of course. But...

“It can’t go vacant,” said Josie. “We covered everything! Unless you got with her into the shower as Charlie’s girlfriend suggested!”

“I didn’t get with Anne into the shower, but thanks for the suggestion,” Gilbert said, winking, and Anne blushed again.

“We’re pitching in, each 50 dollars. And buying a certificate of whatever store the winner wants, because we’re really not wanting to pay the credit card with it,” Jane explained. Gilbert counted quickly but Anne’s eyes grew bigger before he could say anything.

“And what’s in it for us when one of you is getting 350 dollars?” she asked, astounded.

“Your own belated happiness, of course. And you get to take Gilbert into bed. Well, and Gilbert gets you, finally,” Josie answered as if it was obvious. Gilbert nodded. Fine by him. Anne looked at him.

“And you’re ok with this?”

“Carrots, whatever keeps them busy. Josie is right, you know? I get to have you,” he said and kissed her temple quickly and Ruby couldn’t contain a sigh. “So…”

“Who’s the winner, Blythe?” Jerry asked, a knowing smile in his lips. Anne hated him for a second. For him to know her so well. Gilbert looked at her, smiling. Should he tell or did she want to do it?

“Ok, I’m telling you who’s the winner but there will be absolutely no more questions about this subject forever. Or else, you give us the prize,” Anne said. “There are not going to be follow-up questions on the matter of how we got together. Understood?” They all nodded. “Ok, Jerry. Where do you want the gift card from?”

“Jerry?!” Josie yelled as Jerry laughed heartily. “You actually went to bed to sleep with Gilbert Blythe before even kissing him? Anne Shirley-Cuthbert! What a waste!”

“I did and I’m not saying anything else,” she answered. She would not tell them about the reason she had started doing so in the first place.

“And we’re being serious about it, guys. There are really not going to be any follow up questions,” Gilbert said, serious, as he held her close, noticing how tense she was.

“Only one, please?” Ruby said. “Are you… together together?”

“What does that even mean, Ruby?” Anne asked. 

“Well, are you a couple? Like boyfriend and girlfriend?” Gilbert smiled and nodded, proud as hell. Anne smiled softly, as well, and Ruby squeaked and hugged Moody in her happiness.

“So what does that mean for the two of you? Are you staying there, Anne?” Josie asked, direct as always. Anne bit her lip. Another topic she really didn’t want to touch right now. Not when she was so confused about it. “I mean, it’s obvious you’re already living together, but I thought you were still looking for jobs on the island?”

“We’re figuring it out, Jose,” Gilbert said softly as Anne stayed quiet and very still, with a tone that conveyed that the topic was, indeed, off limits. “So, care to tell us anything about the holiday over there? I think it’s enough talk at our expense, eh?”

They continued talking for a while, the gang soon treating them as if they had always been together. Which they kind of had, they only had taken way longer than any other couple to come to terms with it. Bash eventually went to say goodnight, a triumphant smile on his face as he saw them cuddling in front of the camera, a video call with friends. Gilbert saw as he did a small dance coming into the house and controlled the roll of eyes that threatened to come.

The next morning they didn’t wake up very early. Or rather, even if they did, they lingered for longer than they had in Hamilton, because they wanted a relaxed breakfast with the LaCroix. Delly was quiet and sad about their departure, and there was not much that could brighten her because both fairy Anne and Pilbert, who was none other than her uncle Gilby, were going away. She was hugging Foxie the whole morning, a pout in her mouth and her eyes teary as they drove off the house.

“So what do you have stored for the drive back?” Gilbert asked as Anne got her phone out and connected it to the bluetooth of the car.

“Just perfect music, of course,” she said smiling and putting play on the playlist, starting from where they had left it before. They were not even on the highway when the voice of Harry Belafonte filled the car.

“Seriously?”

“It’s the song Bash was singing when I met him! I still have the perfect memory of the moment. Come, sing with me! Eeeeh ooooh!” she sang, laughing. Gilbert shook his head but joined on the next one, when Anne poked his ribs. “Plus, you do know  _ Banana Boat _ is the best, it’s so much fun!”

“I’ll give you that. The first thousand times you hear it! Dad and Bash would play that nonstop for weeks when he first arrived.”

“And isn’t it the best way to commemorate a moment in time? With music?” she countered, smiling at him. He reached for her hand.

“It might as well be. What was he doing when you met him, anyway?”

“Singing this while he danced and washed the dishes. Your father let me in, you were at hockey practice or something, so it was just the three of us sharing stories about you for a while.”

“What? What did you say?” he hadn’t known this before.

“I… may or not have told him the slate incident. He was sorry only about the slate breaking,” she said sheepishly. 

“Anne! I had always wondered how he had so many details! You know for how long he teased me with that?”

“I have no idea. But it was a great icebreaker. Even when it wasn’t needed, Harry did it wonderfully,” she answered, a huge smile on her face.

“Anne!”

“I didn’t tell him I called you Slateface, did I?” she answered, smiling even more. He shook his head, annoyed. “Anyway, I have always been convinced Bash is the perfect brother for you. Keeps you from getting overly serious and solemn.”

“Now you’re pushing it.”

“I’m totally not,” she insisted, and was going to give all the arguments when Gilbert’s phone started vibrating. He passed it to her. “It’s Fred.”

“Hey, Freddie!” Gilbert greeted, answering from the steering wheel and pausing the music for the moment. “You’re on speaker mate, we’re on the road now.”

“Hey Anne! How’s the public dating life going?”

“Ugh, don’t even mention it,” Anne growled, still annoyed at the call from the previous night. “Can you believe our friends had a bet on how we were going to get together?”

“I can, and I would’ve pitched in if I had known before,” Fred answered, a huge laugh. “How does it feel, though? To have it out in the open without actually having to do any work?”

“It’s weird, Fred. We hadn’t even talked about who to tell or how,” said Gilbert. “But, to be sincere, I think it was great. As you said, zero work.”

“Also zero control,” Anne mumbled.

“And that’s bad, Anne? Come on, girl, let go of control. It’s good for you,” Fred said. Anne sighed and looked at the monotonous landscape. Gilbert held her hand, not really understanding what was going on. “Anyway. I was talking with Ella about going to Komoka next Saturday and since Gilbert is finally a grown up with regular weekends, we were wondering if you wanted to come? We’re bringing Bear, of course, and the idea would be to pack some sandwiches or whatever and go enjoy the day in the forest. What do you say?”

“It sounds great! I’m all in for anything that has to do with being outdoors. And Bear. I loved that dog.”

“And he loved you, even when all he usually does is growl at strangers,” Fred answered. “Blythe?”

“Count us in. Thanks for the idea, Fred,” Gilbert accepted, smiling.

“I know! I can bake banana bread to have a snack!” Anne proposed, already savouring it.

“I won’t complain. Ella won’t, either. So, we’ll figure out the details in the week, eh?”

“Sure thing.”

“Ok guys. I’ll leave you to the road. What time do you think you’ll arrive? Just to check on you, know everything went as planned?”

“You’re such a dad, Freddie. I estimate around five pm? Unless traffic is horrid…” Gilbert said.

“Perfect, I’ll take that into account. And of course I’m a dad, do you even doubt it? I'm embracing my role.”

“Hey, Freddie!” Anne said before Gilbert could say anything else. “Thanks for taking care of the plants… I believe Raymond wouldn’t have had any trouble, but I worry for the others.” 

“It was nothing, you can count on us whenever you need it. And guys, honestly. We’re so happy about the two of you, you have no idea. Enjoy this time, ok?”

“Ok, Wright, bye now,” Gilbert said, still uneasy about Anne’s attitude.

“Bye Fred!” Anne said before he hung up. Music resumed and filled the air in the car.

“You ok, Anne-girl?” Gilbert asked, his voice almost a whisper. She nodded.

“I’m sorry. I just feel uneasy with not having control of my life,” she said, feeling honestly sorry about her attitude. Because she did want to be with Gilbert. She was still undecided as to where to live, but she did know she wanted to be with him. Even if they had to figure out how to make some sort of distance thing work if she finally went back to PEI. And she hated when anyone spread things about her. Good, bad, in between, she just hated not having the control. But of course, she would never say anything to Bash.

“I know,” Gilbert answered, bringing her hand to his lips to give it a small kiss. “I’m sure Bash didn’t mean anything bad.”

“I know that. And it’s not that I hate people knowing. It’s that I wasn’t prepared and it wasn’t on our terms and… It’s just stupid, Gil,” she answered. He nodded, but didn’t push the subject any further and concentrated on the road. 

They stayed in silence for a while, just listening to the eclectic selection of music Anne had put on the playlist. There was no more tension in the air, just the easiness that belonged only to them, the comfortable silence they shared sometimes and that could stretch for hours with just the other for company. The Shoos Off gave way to The Cardigans and then to Jason Mraz and Michael Bublé and they sang, laughed and just felt at ease.

Gilbert saw a sign on the road for a small mall and got off the highway to the service road. He entered the parking lot, searching for Shoppers, the pharmacy. Anne looked at him questioningly.

“There’s something we need to buy. And I thought we could also use something to snack and drink, as well?” he commented, turning off the car. Anne blushed slightly at the implication, suddenly feeling like a teen. “Come, Carrots.” They walked into the pharmacy.

“I’ll look for something to eat,” Anne said before disappearing. Gilbert smiled slightly and shook his head. Honestly. 

Anne went straight to the snacks, convinced she would manage to find something and was reading the ingredients of some chips when she felt some eyes on her. Used to Gilbert being the only one who looked at her, she turned smiling, but then looked blankly at the two guys that were standing there. They didn’t even look mean, just… like regular guys, so she wasn’t even scared.

“Sorry,” she said going to the side, maybe they wanted some chips as well? She continued reading the ingredients and put them back. Why did they have to put milk on everything? She took a bag she already knew was vegan and sighed, bored at the lack of options.

“What happened to the other ones?” asked one of the guys.

“Uh?”

“The other chips. It’s a nice flavour…”

“They have milk. I don’t eat milk if I can avoid it,” she answered matter-of-factly. Gilbert was in the family planning section he had just found, and frowned slightly when he saw two random guys talk in hushed tones before approaching Anne. He didn’t consider himself overprotective, but they just gave him an off feeling. Grabbing a couple of boxes (maybe Anne had any preference?) he walked towards where they were.

“Hey, Carrots,” he said in a low voice and acknowledged the guys with a nod. Interrupting but doing his best not to be rude. He received the chips she handed and passed her the boxes. “Choose.” Anne frowned and looked at the two packages Gilbert had given her.  _ Oh _ . She shrugged, but turned the boxes nonetheless to see if there was any information about… anything. Was she supposed to have a preference? The guys saw the condoms and retreated silently and Gilbert felt some tension leave his shoulders.

“This. Cruelty free,” she commented, completely forgetting about the guys. “Anything to drink?”

“I saw there was a Timmies on the way out. Do you want something from here or should we grab a coffee on the way out?”

“Coffee! What kind of question is that, Gilbert?” she replied, walking to the checkout. “Come! I actually want one. Big one. Plenty of ice. Almond milk. I’m picturing it, let’s go!”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the secret is out. And we know the nosy gang has some fans and some heavy critics, but here they're just in their element. For all nosy they are, they just love Anne and Gilbert. Would you have taken part of the bet or would you have sided with Diana?  
> The holiday is over (it was tiny, we know, but Gilbert does have to work). What did you think of Anne meeting the LaCroix family again? And Delly for the first time? She might be sad because Pilbert and fairy Anne are leaving, but... you think she won't ever see them again in some way?  
> And we had a stop at the pharmacy! Any guesses on what will happen next chapter? ;)  
> We'll see you on Saturday... Or around instagram. Fred is all about teasing Gilbert, you know?


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!!  
> So... We are a bit late?
> 
> We know you all have great expectations about this chapter! We totally get why: it is a really important chapter for them, and you'll get to see why very soon.
> 
> We don't want to delay any more, so... here's the music! If you want to check out the last songs from their road trip and then the ones for the rest of the chapter.... It's a really good playlist. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0fVzyulMwYWwVRipdTK7Ls?si=NaRBHHLJTwm-gW45An8v3w

Soon they were in the car, the fabric tote on the back seat, and they were on the way again, still some two hours of road ahead. Anne connected her phone again and they were on their way. After a while, among the eclectic selection,  _ Kung Fu Fighting _ started playing, eliciting a laugh from Gilbert.

“Now that’s when I knew your aggressive tendencies went beyond slate smashing,” he commented, shaking his head, remembering when they had seen Karate Kid at John’s insistence and Anne had somehow felt the need to answer with a kick to something he had said. And he had been too slow to stop her leg, of course, gaining the mockery of both his father and Anne for weeks. Anne laughed as well.

“I was inspired by the movie! I’m not really aggressive!”

“Keep telling that to yourself, Carrots,” he chuckled. “I know the truth.”

“I’m not!”

“Then it’s only against me? Should I get worried?” Gilbert asked, smiling.

“It’s only that you tease so much, Slateface! So much!” she said, laughing. “You elicit things in me that are not seen with other people!” she said without thinking. Gilbert laughed and then looked at her blushing face.

“Do tell?” he asked, curious and teasing at the same time.

“Well, hitting, of course!” he laughed even harder at how uncomfortable she was. For nothing. It’s not like she was still in denial and they weren’t together. 

“And what else only I elicit in you, Carrots?” he insisted playfully. 

“Well, nothing!” she said, blushing even harder, thinking about the moments they had spent together over the long weekend before invariably being interrupted. 

“I’m not buying it. Your face says otherwise,” he said, turning slightly to wink at her. 

“Urgh! You’re insufferable Gilbert Blythe!”

“Ho ho, we’re to full names now, Carrots?” he teased and she just growled. He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “There’s nothing wrong with it, you know? It’s not like it doesn’t go both ways.” She mumbled something under her breath and he chuckled again. “You know how adorable you look when you’re annoyed and embarrassed for no reason?”

“Shut up,” she mumbled as the song changed to  _ I won’t give up _ .

“That’s a nice version,” Gilbert commented after a moment. “I’m so used to the Jason Mraz one, who are these?”

“The Macarons Project,” she commented.

“Have I told you of when I realized I was gone far too deep for you?” Gilbert asked softly as the song continued. Anne looked at him, all wide eyes and frown.

“What? No…”

“Remember Christmas 2008?” Gilbert asked as he changed to the high speed lane. They were already crossing Scarborough and there was roughly one hour left of travelling, unless they found something unexpected on the highway.

“You have to be kidding, Gil. There’s no way you can go that far back.”

“There is. Why else do you think the teasing from dad and Bash was so relentless? I already told you about the  _ Here Comes the Sun  _ thing. They had to have somewhere to drag from,” he countered.

“But that’s… that’s…”

“A while ago. I know, Anne-girl,” he commented. “Anyway. We got to your house... Dad was already pretty weak, so I helped Bash with the wheelchair and all and at first I didn’t pay much attention. But then Marilla called you and you came down the stairs. You had this short pixie and I’m sure you went to trim it or something because it looked just different. And I was already very attracted to you, that… that wasn’t new,” he said, not taking his eyes off the road. Anne couldn’t take hers off him. “Anyway, suddenly you were greeting dad, and it just hit me. There was no way this was a crush. I’d had crushes over the years. Not many, but enough so that in that moment I suddenly knew that this was different. This was not just attraction, or a fancy, or… any of that. This was going way deeper and was way more difficult to process. Bash had to nudge me to make me react before you turned,” he chuckled. “I was just that stunned. Of course he put two and two together and I never lived it down…”

Anne’s mouth was slightly open, remembering the moment as if it had happened the night before. How John was looking very frail after having been released from the hospital just some weeks before. How they all tried to make that day extra special at the Cuthbert house, because they knew it was going to be Gilbert’s last Christmas with his father. How she had gone to the hairdresser in the morning in an attempt to make anything so her hair had some sense and then had worn a pale blue vintage dress Matthew had gifted her and Marilla had frowned upon because it was “too much” (dear Marilla, everything was too much for her).

Gilbert made to take her hand and she grabbed his, willingly.

“So then you greeted me and I was just this… moke, as Bash would say. You were so, so pretty that night you have no idea. I just couldn’t help myself…”

“And you caressed my cheek,” Anne whispered. He looked at her for a second, fondly.

“I did. I was trying to hold back. To  _ not _ kiss you right then and there. So… that’s all I could do.”

“It was the first time I felt pretty,” Anne whispered, admitting something to him she had taken weeks at the time to come to terms with.

“I hope you feel that every day, Anne-girl. You’re not only pretty. You’re unique,” he established. “So after that, of course, I spent the following year and a half pinning after you, completely convinced of how you would never even like me, and then completely fucking up,” Anne huffed.

“Had you been any more direct… We would have saved so much pain,” she commented in a quiet voice.

“The important thing is we managed to overcome it and we’re together now. And I’m all for the present, you know?” he said, thinking of how and if to proceed with the line he had in mind. The idea had been turning in his head for some time now, and he wanted to be direct about his intentions with Anne. But he felt somewhat off about her attitude towards their relationship. And what was worse, he actually thought it had more to do with her insecurities than with her feelings for him. He sighed.

“You ok?” Anne asked him, slightly worried at how his eyebrows were now knit together.

“Yes, just thinking, Anne-girl,” he said softly, holding her hand and giving her a small kiss on the knuckles. She smiled.

“I’m so incredibly happy to be with you,” she said, her voice a whisper, almost as if she was talking to herself.

“Is that so? Please share,” he answered, smiling and looking briefly at her. Anne looked him in the eyes, the soft expression he had. So familiar to her, somewhere she could always come back to.

“I just never thought it would happen, you know? And somehow, after all this time… it did. It’s a birthday wish come true.”

“A birthday wish?” he asked, confused. Because Anne couldn’t have possibly wished for him.

“The kind where you blow out the candles? I did wish for it, at some point,” she mumbled, blushing and looking out the window. Gilbert felt his heart clench inside him.

“You actually did that? What was the wish?” he asked, curious.

“Well, I just said so, didn’t I? I just wanted you to notice me. Not as your friend, but…” she chuckled at the memory. She had prepared her wish in advance, the perfect wording not to make it wrong because she didn’t want to tempt fate. She still remembered most of it. Gilbert looked at her quickly before turning his eyes back to the road, urging her to continue, and she recited as if it was something learnt by heart, “as an equal and partner, as a life-mate.”

“Anne-girl…” he managed to say in his astonishment of her well-chosen words, looking for an excuse not to get off the highway just to kiss her.

“It was silly, I’m sure. I haven’t really made birthday wishes since, because it seemed to make everything go backwards… But the sentiment of accomplished birthday-wish still stands now.”

“Don’t say that, please? I mean, resume the birthday wishes…” he stammered. She looked at him and he cleared his throat. “If you still wish for it… I would like it very much, to be all of it” he said in a soft, loving voice, squeezing her hand a bit more. She looked at him, at a loss of what to say, and he felt the resolve he had been looking for come to him. “Anne… There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk about with you.”

“What? Old birthday wishes as well?” she asked, trying to alleviate what she felt was becoming a tad too charged of a situation. Gilbert chuckled.

“Kind of? I don’t actually recall my birthday wishes, so I can’t know for sure,” he answered. He sighed. This shouldn’t be hard to talk about. “Look, I know you’ve stayed at my place while Covid lets you go back to PEI. It’s probably against the oath I took by becoming a doctor, but I’m grateful for this virus for bringing us together. I honestly think it wouldn’t have happened otherwise,” she didn’t say anything, because there wasn’t much to say. What he thought about whatever oath he took, she had no say, but she did agree on them probably not having a better way of getting together. “And while I know you have been looking for jobs all over the place… I wanted to propose to you that you didn’t.”

“You don’t want me to get a job?” she did interrupt him there. That was preposterous!

“I do, Anne-girl. If you wish so. Please, allow me to finish? I’m actually getting somewhere,” he said.

His voice was still as soft as Anne always remembered it. The quintessential Gilbert Glythe’s voice in her head. Because it was the exact tone that had haunted her teen years, before they were even friends, when he would speak at her with it and she would become mush and therefore hate him even more. It was as enthralling as it had been some fifteen years ago. She nodded, but bit her lips, uneasy, unsure about where he could be heading. Every path seemed to give her a bad feeling on her stomach. 

“I wanted to propose that you didn’t keep up with your search everywhere… But that you instead focused it around Hamilton. There would be nothing that I would love more in this moment than for you to feel that my apartment is also your home, and not some temporary place to crash for a few months,” he said, doing his best to think about every word carefully. He wanted to tell her about Yang’s opportunity as well, but preferred to go step by step. “I would very much like to share my life with you as my life-mate, as you said, if you would…”

“Gilbert Blythe please tell me you’re not telling me to move in with you,” Anne interrupted him. Because she couldn’t fathom that idea. It didn’t make any sense. They’ve been going out for... she had no idea how long, but so very little time it wasn't of great consequence yet in their lives, and she wanted to be with him more than anything but she desperately needed to find her home first and she had no idea if that meant PEI or Montreal or Hamilton or even Kelowna. Her mind was going non-stop.

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert that is just what I’m proposing,” he replied, with an even tone, trying not to think too much of what her interruption meant. “You’re already living there, Carrots. The only thing I’m proposing is for you to stop looking for ways to move out, and just stay home. With me. Our home.”

“Gilbert, we can’t move in together,” she insisted. He looked at her quickly, before putting his eyes back on the road, his eyebrows furrowed, a little bit taken aback by her reaction.

“Anne, we already  _ live together _ . There’s not “moving in” to do. I’m just trying for both of us to acknowledge that fact and for you not to keep looking for a way out,” he insisted, still calm.

“No, I’m just staying at your place for a while until this thing clears and I can get a place and a job somewhere,” she insisted, stubborn. Because it was what she was doing. She was doing that and trying to plant some roots, to find a place to call home. And even if she wanted to be with Gilbert more than anything, she still needed to have a home, to have a house, to… He laughed sadly.

“Really, Carrots?” he asked after a moment of silence, when it was evident she was not going to elaborate or say anything else. “So you’re just crashing in my place and that’s it?” Anne looked at him. “What would you call this, then, may I ask?”

“What would I call what?” she asked, still thinking of Avonlea’s quiet streets. Home. Maybe?

“This thing. In general. Between us. If you’re just crashing at my place, what do you call this thing between us?”

“What thing? This is not a  _ thing _ , Gilbert. This is you and me, being a couple,” she answered, because it was so obvious. “You’re my boyfriend… right?” she asked, because that's what she honestly thought. Was she somehow wrong? Hadn’t they talked about that some weeks before? Hadn’t he confirmed it to Ruby, of all people, the night before?

“I am, Anne-girl. I am,” he confirmed. “Just like you are my girlfriend, I hope?” he actually felt the need to ask.

“Gil, I think it’s established. It goes both ways. Reciprocal,” she answered, giving him a small caress on the leg, but still biting her lip. He shook his head slightly, confused, her attitude from the past few days on the back of his mind. 

“So, we’re a couple. Girlfriend and boyfriend, as you say,” he said, sighing, his eyes squarely on the road. “Anne… I’m not actually sure of how to phrase this, because… These past weeks have been some of the happiest of my life. But us being a couple is something you actually want?” He wasn’t even going to bring out his teaching opportunity now. Not until they solved this, at the very least. 

“What?! Are you joking, Gilbert?” she turned and looked at him, livid.

“I can assure you I am not. I think it’s a legit question. Anne, are you sure you want to be my girlfriend?”

“Gilbert, didn’t I tell you like ten minutes ago about my birthday wish from ten years ago actually coming true?” she asked. What was he trying to do? Make a point? What kind of point? “I want to be your girlfriend more than anything! It’s the one thing that’s keeping me grounded, you’re the freaking north in my life right now!”

“And how can you explain then that you don’t want people to know about us?”

“Because we’re still trying to figure it out! It’s so sudden! So quick!”

“Anne, something that’s been more than a decade in the making can’t really be defined as sudden and quick! What are you not sure of, honestly?” he asked, trying to keep as calm as he could. Not raising his voice. Both hands on the steering wheel. Maybe grabbing it a tad too strongly, but he was not going to let his temper and frustration get the best of him.

“What do you mean? I’m not sure of anything, Gilbert. The one thing that I’m sure about is you. Other than that…” she said, frustrated and confused, this conversation making her as uncomfortable as ever.

“So you’re sure about me,” he repeated, his tone still, and he saw her nod by the rearview mirror. “You’re sure about me being your boyfriend, so you say.”

“Because I am sure of that, Gilbert! So sure!” she interrupted again, and he breathed in slowly.

“So now I feel like I have to ask, where do you think me, being your boyfriend, is going to? What kind of future do you see in this if you can’t even admit to people we are a couple and can’t even consider moving in with me officially?”

“Well I don’t know, Gilbert! I just want to start by finding my home, deciding where to live, get a job to pay bills! Can’t I do that one thing at a time? Can’t I just see if this therapy thing you and Fred insisted on me going to work and helps me define whatever I want to do with my life?”

“You don’t know?” he asked in a low voice, trying to ignore the knot in his throat and how his fingers were starting to hurt from the tension.

“I don’t know, Gilbert! I haven’t known in years, what would make you think anything about that has changed? Shit, I don't know what to do with myself and you expect me to know where this thing with you is going?”

“So now it’s  _ this thing _ ?”

“You called it that way first, Gilbert! Fuck!”

“I did, only trying to understand what you thought of the whole relationship between us. Not because I could ever think anything with you is a thing,” he answered, eyes still on the highway. He refused to look at her at that moment. And he felt her eyes boring on him. She was so annoyed. They had been having the trip of the year! It had been mostly so, so perfect! Only for him to ruin it with his questions! Urgh! “Anne, you seriously have no idea of where this is going? What do you want from this? Please, be honest.”

“I just told you! Are you even listening, Gilbert Blythe?! I don’t know! I need a home first! A fucking home! Something you’ve had all your life and I only got a taste of for a few years! A home!” she insisted.

Why was it so hard for him to understand? She did get that they’d had vastly different childhoods, but Gilbert had always got her. He had been there. He had held her as she cried after her nightmares. Before and now. Why was it so hard for him to understand she couldn’t think of any kind of future with him without first finding her place?

“I am listening, Anne. Believe me, I am,” he said, trying no to clench his jaw so hard, but determined no to lose his control while driving and they were just getting to Mississauga. Why was she so insecure? So stubborn? So blind? This was the reason nothing ever happened between them when they were teenagers, probably. She was always in too much of a denial for anything to have even the opportunity of happening. Too focused in her voids and not on what was so readily available for her.

“How can you ask those questions and be so calm and collected? Do you even care about this, Gilbert? Do you really mind anything about me?” she asked, feeling somehow her eyes water. But she would not cry about this and even less in front of him.

“Now Anne, don’t push it. I care a great deal. I love you. I want to have a home with you. I’m just not losing my temper like you are,” or trying no to lose it, anyway. “This whole…”

“You’re saying I’m losing my temper?!” she exclaimed. “Gilbert Blythe at least look at me!”

“Anne, I’m driving,” he said. It hadn’t stopped him before. But he was finding it harder by the second to stay calm. Anne saw his clenched jaw and his white knuckles.

“You’re driving?! You chose to have this conversation in the car while you drove, not me! So face it!”

“I would have never imagined it would turn out like this,” he admitted, more to himself than to Anne.

“Like what, Gilbert?! What were you expecting?!”

“I was actually expecting a conversation between two caring adults about starting their lives together. Does that ring any bell, Carrots? Or was it just wishful thinking?”

“Can you even blame me? I have no idea why you assumed…”

“I assumed things, yes, but only based on what I think you’re feeling, Anne. Be the big girl you are and acknowledge the facts. Acknowledge how you feel. Not what your insecurities are telling you to do. Do you want a home? Well, maybe it’s in front of you. You don’t know what to do about your future? Maybe you already have the answers,” he said, not quite able to contain himself, but still managing to keep his voice low. “Whenever you find it in your gut what you want with your life and with me, please let me know. I haven’t been waiting for that, clearly,” he concluded, wanting to end this discussion because it was just too painful.

Low and cold and impersonal and unfeeling, or that’s how Anne felt his controlled, clipped, even sarcastic tone. How dare he say any of this to her? She didn’t have anything in front of her! She would have seen it! Did she? Why was he being so mean and so incomprehensive and crude?! She opened her mouth to answer him a couple of times but found no words. And then decided just to ignore him for the remainder of the ride.

Annoyed, she changed the playlist she had made, not wanting to bring back those memories any more. At least, not right then. She randomly chose one of Gilbert’s daily mixes from the app, and as a song in Spanish she had never heard started playing, she knew she had chosen well. She didn’t want any music to bring back anything to her right then.

He noticed the change of music but didn’t say anything, just listening song after song of groups and singers he had discovered while he travelled with Fred and when  _ Alguien como tú _ from Josean Log started playing he refrained from sighing out of frustration. When the song had come out the previous year, Fred had sent it to him half as a joke and half because it seemed like the song had been written by some version of Gilbert.  _ Get over it and ditch that ring, Blythe, it’s time. It’s been long enough, _ he had insisted. There were other girls on the planet who could be as good as that mysterious Anne if he only gave them the chance. Anne looked at him, not getting his expression, but decided to just ignore him and looked out of the window.

When they finally got to Gilbert’s parking lot, Anne got out of the car when he hadn’t even turned it off. Going to the trunk to retrieve her carry on, she went to the stairs and he picked up his pace to reach her. She entered his apartment when he was just getting in the hallway, looked around, her bag still in her hand. She just left it next to the door as he entered.

“Anne, Carrots, can we just talk about this?” he asked her, calmer after half an hour of concentrating just in the car that was in front and listening to music he admittedly loved. She looked at him, not an expression on her face.

“I need time to think,” was her sole answer before she turned and left the house. Gilbert stood there, blinking, not quite believing she had just left like that. He swallowed. He wanted to live with her. Heck, he wanted to marry her and have little red haired babies with her (not that he was telling her that now). But was it even possible that he had messed up- again?

**Gilbert Blythe (16:50): Hey, Freddie. We got home. Call you later. Can’t talk now.

**Gilbert Blythe (16:50): Anne, come to the apartment. Please. We need to talk about this. Ignoring this issue won’t take us anywhere.

**Fred (16:51): Thanks for letting me know. Taking Bear to Confederation in a bit, in case you want to drive a bit more but see your furry fellow rescue. Ella’s staying home, she’s been feeling a bit queasy the past few days.

Of course, she didn’t answer. He waited ten, fifteen minutes and tried to call her.

“Come on, Anne…” he mumbled as he heard the first couple of rings but then it went straight to voicemail. “Seriously?” He tried again, and voicemail received him after just the first ring.

**Gilbert Blythe (17:06): Anne, pick up the phone. Where are you? I can meet you there so we can talk. Please.

He tried again, more frustrated than before.

**Gilbert Blythe: (...)

He didn’t send anything more. What was the point? Whatever calm he had managed to collect was gone by now and he was in a horrible mood. But he needed to talk with someone, because maybe an outside perspective would help? Maybe he was not mental and there was a point in Anne living with him? Maybe he was not overreacting? Or had he been so wrong about… everything?

**Gilbert Blythe (17:12): I’m actually in a very bad mood. But if you don’t mind hearing me vent, I could use a good ear and your huge dog to pet. 

**Fred (17:13): See you in 15? By Hutch’s, I want ice cream. Bear will hear you while I enjoy something creamy 🤤 

“Cole, I screwed up with Gilbert,” Anne said after her friend picked up the phone. She had called him when she was not three blocks away from Gilbert’s apartment, because she had spent the past half an hour trying to sort things in her mind, she was furious with Gilbert, and needed to speak with someone. She still had the option of calling Diana, but that meant probably enduring Jerry’s comments. So Cole first.

“How exactly did you manage to do so?” he asked. “Everything looked pretty much perfect last evening. Well, except how uncomfortable you were about the whole situation. Something I did pick up, Nan.”

“He might have proposed that I move in with him and I freaked,” Anne answered.

“Anne, you already live with the guy,” Cole said, matter-of-factly. She growled.

“I’m staying there while covid and until I find a job!” she insisted.

“Are you seriously telling that to yourself?” Cole asked. “Anne, please, stop denying reality?”

“Can you  _ not  _ be Gilbert in this conversation, please?”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“Just what I said. Don’t channel Gilbert. I had enough of his arguments. I just need to vent. I need to figure out what to do. Where to live. And I feel like suddenly there’s so much pressure, Cole. I don’t like this. I just want to go home. I need to have a home and a job and be independent before I even consider living with him,” she said, finally getting to the trail and sitting next to the first tree she saw. “It’s bad enough that he doesn’t allow me to pay for anything.”

“Nana... what exactly is home for you? If that’s the biggest issue, start there. What is home for Anne Shirley-Cuthbert?”

“I don’t even know!” she exclaimed. “It’s Green Gables! Matthew and Marilla and Butterscotch and the whole freaking farm I will never be able to buy back.”

“Anne…” she heard Cole sigh on the other side and she didn’t add anything else, waiting for him to collect his thoughts. “Look, what I’m going to say it’s with the best possible intention so please don’t go mental on me?”

“What, Cole?” she replied, already apprehensive.

“Matthew and Marilla, as much as you loved them, as much as they were the home of your youth… They are no longer here. You won’t find that anywhere. The good thing is you already have them in your heart. So stop looking for a way to emulate that feeling you got when you arrived from school and Marilla had fresh baked bread and Matthew was scolded for trailing mud all over. That is a cherished memory, but it won’t happen again. You won’t get the exact same feeling again,” he said calmly, as if he was trying to measure every word, and Anne felt how her throat was closing little by little in a knot, her eyes going watery. She was looking for that. The warmth. The cozyness she felt at Green Gables. She tried to answer but only made some strange noise. “As for Green Gables… Who knows? Maybe you’ll manage to buy it in some years. Don’t give up on that. But Green Gables is not your home either, Nan. Neither is particularly Avonlea.”

“Of course they are, Cole,” she said, and it came almost as a pout. Because that was home. That was where she had been happy. And if she came back there she would be again. Maybe.

“No, Anne. Those are just the scenarios. Avonlea? That’s where we were as kids, and it feels so familiar and good because of all the memories we have there. That’s why we all love going there for the holidays. Even I do, even when it means seeing my family and you know how that always turns out. Green Gables? Marilla and Matthew were there. So that’s why the farm is home to you. You just can’t see it without seeing them, and you think that by going there you will feel the same warm feeling inside you again. I’ll save you some pain: it won’t come back. It is an empty space now.”

“But…” she tried to protest, because that was home and if she didn’t even have the hope of getting home in Avonlea, then she was even more lost than what she had anticipated.

“Nan, I’m sorry. Home is not a place or a house. That’s why we have a different word for that. And you’re the word magician, not me. I just play with clay and paint. You should understand this better than I do,” he said quietly. Anne didn’t say anything else for a moment and neither did Cole, both hanging on the other side of the line.

“So how am I supposed to find a home then?”

“Nan... What is a home? Without mentioning Marilla and Matthew and Green Gables and Avonlea, what is a home to you?”

“I don’t know, Cole,” she said frustrated, because there seemed to be a mental block and she couldn’t see past them. Past the farm. Past Jerry, annoying as he was. She could see the block now, but not a way around it. “I don’t know what a home is beyond what I’ve had, I really don’t know.”

“Maybe… would it help you if I told you what home is to me? What it has been over the years?”

“Would you actually share that?”

“Anne, with you?” Cole huffed. “I almost feel offended by your question.”

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be. So home. For Cole MacKensie. Back when we were teens… You know, when I still lived with my family back in Avonlea?”

“That was home?” Anne asked, stupefied. He had suffered so much in that house! 

_ Incoming call: Gil _

She hung up. Almost immediately it started ringing again and she ended the call quickly, just wanting to hear what Cole had to say. She couldn’t face Gilbert without having some sort of clarity.

“No. It wasn’t. That’s the point. Being with my parents and my siblings never was really home. Because I didn’t feel like I could be myself. I didn’t feel like I belonged. I didn’t feel at ease, you see? I had to watch every movement, every word, every thought. And then I came out and all hell broke loose, and I ended at Aunt Jo’s. That was home. You know why?”

“Why?” she asked, even when she was already seeing the answer. Because he could be.

**Gil (17:06): Anne, pick up the phone. Where are you? I can meet you there so we can talk. Please.

_ Incoming call: Gil _

She hung up again. 

“I could be completely and unapologetically myself. All day. Not just in the forest with you, but at school, in the house, while at dinner. I felt free, expanding and cared for and it was the best feeling. I had a place I longed to return to, where I wouldn’t be judged, where I could speak freely, where I could feel sad and not hide it, you know?”

“Cole…” she tried, remembering how hard those years had been for him.

“Anne. It’s in the past. It’s ok, now. You see where I’m going now?”

“But Cole, for me… aunt Jo were the Cuthberts.”

“Anne, see past them, please,” he insisted, like when he was trying to show her something she didn’t understand on a work of art. “See past the obvious, Nan. Ok, let me continue, then. After uni I went to live alone, remember? For about a year or two.”

“Before you finally moved in with Roy, yes,” she said, clinging to his every word.

“That apartment was home, at least in the beginning. I absolutely loved every single thing about it and looked forward to going in the night to a place I could call my own. Where I could walk around naked if that’s what I wanted. Where I could decorate exclusively to my taste and leave my oils on the dining table and smoke wherever I wanted. Even if it was a shitty basement, because we both know that’s what it was. But then something changed, Nan. As I grew closer with Roy, I found I no longer needed that place so much. I didn’t want to come back to it at night, and when he was at my place, he didn’t want to go back to his, even when it was most definitely not a shitty basement. Because with him I had my person. I could have all I had when living alone, but I also had someone to share it with. And that made it all the better, you know?”

“Sharing it?”

“Finding a home in someone outside myself, and then starting to build our own special family surrounding it,” Cole said, pointedly. Anne heard him sigh again, as if he was a bit exasperated with her daftness but didn’t want to say anything wrong either. “The point of all of this, Anne, is that home is not a place. It is not a farm, an apartment or a city. It is more the people you share your life with, those that help you be the best and greatest version of you and those with whom you can be at your worst. It’s where you feel comfortable. If you’re not seeing it now, Nan, I don’t honestly know how else to explain it to you.”

They fell in silence again and Anne saw a curious squirrel that didn’t seem to understand how a human was so still and kept going closer to it. Making great detours, but getting closer and closer after each circle. She was thirsty, the weather nearing the forty degrees, the shadow of the trees helping but not really cutting it. But she needed to figure this out before going back home. Shit. Going  _ back home. _

“Fuck. My home is with Gilbert Blythe,” she exclaimed, her voice barely above a whisper, not even intending it for Cole to hear it.

“Finally! That’s my girl!” Cole answered, clearly relieved. “Can you please understand then where all this… discussion you had with him is about?”

“He already had it figured out. He already knows I’m home with him. Shit. He’s home with me as well. And here I was telling him that I had to… what do I do about the job, Cole?”

“What job, Anne?”

“Well I am looking for a job! All over the place!”

“Well you just narrow your search to Hamilton! Or those other towns that are close by, I don’t even remember the names. That’s easy. Plus, I don’t think there is any rush for you to find a job. It’s not like you both are struggling to pay rent. You can take your time to find something you actually like. Think about what you want to do. Or write that damn book, girl.”

“He doesn’t even allow me to pay rent,” Anne mumbled, still uncomfortable about the fact. “And I am writing.”

“Nan, I hate to break it to you, but rent probably is the last of Gilbert’s worries. He lives in a nice but small apartment in  _ Hamilton _ . How much can the rent be? And he’s a fucking oncologist and then has this apple cider thing that has really grown since Bash moved to Montreal… Stop worrying about it and think more about you being with him, ok?”

“I have to talk with him. Shit. Cole, I’m sorry, I have to go home,” she said, suddenly feeling anxious and standing up. This piece of news was as startling as when she first found out she loved Gilbert Blythe. And unlike then, when she had bottled the information, she needed to speak with him  _ now _ before everything went to hell again. The squirrel scattered, scared. Apparently humans couldn’t stay still indefinitely.

“Ok, Nana. Please, for all of us, don’t… deny what you already know deep in you?” Cole asked her. She bit her lips.

“I’ll try, Cole,” she answered, standing still in the middle of the trees. “It’s not like it’s a conscious decision, believe me. It would save many people a lot of hurt if I just had a crystal ball inside myself.”

“That’s true enough. Ok. Go home to your man now. I love you.”

“And I love you. Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re most welcome. Now go! Poor guy must be out of his mind,” Cole said.

“Fred!” he called his friend as soon as he saw him. “Bear! Come here, boy!” he kneeled and hugged the huge dog, letting some of his tension melt into the furriness.

“What happened now, Blythe?” Fred asked him, passing him an ice cream he had obviously bought for Gilbert. He accepted it and they started walking side by side.

“Thank for this,” he said. Fred made a gesture, urging him to continue. “I proposed to her that she stopped looking for a job all around, concentrated just in this area and moved in officially. And she went mental,” he answered.

“Of course she would go mental,” Fred mumbled. “Look, don’t even take it personally, Gilbert.”

“I was kind of doing so, you know?”

“I do. Just don’t.”

“Part of me thinks these are just her insecurities speaking. But it doesn’t make it any less frustrating. Because I do believe she cares for me and wants to be with me in some measure,” he said. Or he wanted to believe so, after so many years.

“I’m sure she does. She’ll come around. Just give her some time. I can give you the advice back,” he said and Gilbert huffed, shaking his head, remembering a similar situation some six or seven years before. “Where is she, anyway? It’s not like you to storm out.”

“No, but it is like her. I tried calling her and texting her and she just hung up. So I decided to go out, take your offer,” Gilbert answered as Bear stopped to sniffle a tree and pee. “Is it too bad from me to think this could be real, that we could live together and start the life we both have longed for so many years? Isn’t it amazing we actually managed to smooth things over and that we are together? Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“For one, that you’re hopelessly romantic, that’s for sure,” Fred commented. “Blythe, it’s normal. You’re full of emotions, as she is. Only you have way more stability, mental, emotional and otherwise, than she does. So give her a chance to collect her thoughts, eh? Try not to pressure her. How’s she doing with the therapies, anyway?”

“She mentioned it was getting better, but that Patel had mentioned it was more of a long term thing so she wouldn’t relapse. She hasn’t had many bad dreams… Whenever I feel her stirring I hug her and it seems to help. And when she has woken up from a nightmare she has woken me and I’ve done what I can. And she’s gotten more confident as well in other things… So I think there is some improvement. And they've been able to manage it without any meds, which I know were a sore point for her.”

“That’s great. I honestly didn’t know if they were going to manage that, considering the state she was in that night. I’m glad things are moving in a good direction,” Fred commented. They walked in silence for a few meters. “Have you told her about Yang’s proposal? I didn’t ask earlier, because last I knew, you hadn’t told her…”

“Thanks for that. I actually planned to tell her… well, as part of the conversation that turned into such a mess,” he explained, still frustrated. “Any suggestions? Last I want is for it to be another sore point. I’d rather pass up the opportunity, I do have my priorities clear, you know?”

“I know. I understand that. But I don’t think it’s necessary for you to pass it up… At least not yet. What was the center of the argument?”

“Pff… everything, it would seem,” Gilbert replied, remembering their discussion not two hours back. Fred looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Ok, ok… Let me think… The thing that she kept going back to was her finding a home.”

“Not the job aspect? Or not knowing what to do?” Fred asked.

“She did mention it, Fred. It was all over the place. But the… center of the argument, as you call it, was the home thing. Finding a home before figuring out the rest.”

“So it probably won’t be that much of a problem,  _ if _ she reaches the conclusion that her home is with you,” Fred said. Gilbert looked at him. “Look, I’m not saying be all insensitive in how you tell her. But I don’t think it will be a sore point like this… moving in together thing is. If she agrees to move in with you, then touch the subject of what she wants to do in a way she doesn’t feel judged or pressured… And after helping her feel validated and taken into account, because I know it’s something that truly comes from you, then share about your opportunity. I take it you want to say yes, if you’re considering how to tell her?”

“As long as it doesn’t come in between Anne and me… I do, yes. You know I want to teach, and it’s an entry-level course. First years. If it was for more advanced students I would probably be more nervous, but here I can help them get good bases… And I kind of like that idea, you know?”

“Yes, I get what you mean. I think it’s great, actually.” They walked in silence for a few more minutes.

“How’s Ella, anyway? What’s going on with her? I spoke to her the other day and she seemed in a good mood, even if a bit defensive…”

“You mean that whole instagram thing? You’re lucky you were away,” Fred replied laughing. “She was mental after your comments. Saying you had betrayed her when you talked against cereal. Anne’s rubbing on you, by the way,” Fred commented in between laughs. Gilbert shook his head.

“You mentioned she was feeling queasy…?” Gilbert insisted, because it couldn't all be a coincidence. Her, refuting Fred’s miso (which was really nice, and he knew Ella loved), eating Lucky Charms insistently, Fred going to the park on his own... He looked at his friend. They had been actively trying for the better part of a year and he had stopped mentioning the subject months ago, when he noticed that Fred was actually starting to worry. And then he noticed the tiniest of the smallest smiles in his friend’s eyes. Unrelated to his laugh. “No way. Fred Wright. Is this what I think it is? Finally?” he asked, stopping in the middle of the path and pulling Fred to the grass next to it so they wouldn’t be in the way of anyone else. Bear lifted a leg on a nearby tree. He forgot all about Anne for the moment.

“It all depends, Blythe. You’ve never been particularly good at catching signals from people…”

“Don’t mess with me, Wright. I was catching plenty the other day and I’ve been waiting for this moment since last year. Are you guys…” but he didn’t have to finish the question as Fred’s smile was all he needed. He hugged him tightly and Fred hugged him in response. “I am so happy this doesn’t make any sense. When did you find out?”

“A couple of weeks ago. Dr. Oak confirmed it on Friday, but of course you were in Montreal and it’s not the kind of news you tell over a message.”

“Of course, makes sense, but… My goodness, Freddie. This is it, finally! How’s Ella feeling?”

“Excited. Nervous. A bit afraid. We were actually considering fertility treatment options with Dr. Oak when it happened, so… But she’s so happy, Blythe. Like you can totally see it in her eyes. It’s amazing,” Fred explained. Gilbert nodded. He knew they had been trying since the past summer, so… “She finally looks more relaxed, as well.”

“And are you telling people now? How far along is she?”

“Seven weeks, apparently. And yes. We’re telling. In person first to our closest family, which of course includes you. This whole taboo of waiting three months doesn’t make any sense to us,” Fred answered. “And honestly? We’re so happy right now we just want to share it.”

“You guys are going to be parents,” Gilbert said, smiling, feeling his chest full of love for his friends. “You’re going to be dad to someone, Freddie.”

“Don’t even remind me, Gilbert. I’m terrified as it is. Happier as ever, but so utterly terrified to mess with a tiny human being. Like I want this, yes, but it doesn’t take away the… well, everything..”

“You managed to deal with me at 19. So you already know how to deal with crying babies,” Gilbert joked, unable to stop smiling. “Goodness, I’m so happy for you and Ella. So, so happy. I’ll call her once I get a chance.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long note will be the end one today :)
> 
> First things first: is it safe to say you weren't expecting this and that while you wanted them to talk (we know you did, you said so in the comments!) you weren't expecting it to happen this way? And they still have sooooo many things to talk about. Well, they still have this issue to solve, if we think about it, right? So how do you think they'll solve it next chapter?
> 
> And now... Ella and Fred are going to be parents! Like, mom and dad to a human baby and not just a giant dog! Aren't we all excited?
> 
> Which leads us to..... Now that instagram exists, we feel we have to be a bit upfront about a couple of things: the chapters we're publishing now have been written for months. Like this one was written around September or October at the latest. So... Anything that happens in Instagram doesn't influence what happens here. And that includes the fertility of the characters, if you know what I mean ;)
> 
> We, as in... Fred and Cole in Instagram, know what we're publishing and why and where we're taking the banters with Gilbert or whoever, so you can take those comments like true to this story. Or with truths to this story. That said, we have no control over what Anne, Gilbert, Bash... publish, comment or reply to us. Even if some of them suggested we told them if there was something out of character. We won't do that, because we would give too much away, but if you follow those accounts, chances are, you'll see some things that don't really align with the story. It doesn't matter! They're great fun! We know we enjoy them a lot and their pictures are so nicely curated. We truly love them.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning, everyone!
> 
> Last chapter seemed to be good, right? It was so interesting to read your comments... Like there was a collective sigh of relief at that discussion finally happening. Many of you were glad they were discussing, because at least that meant getting things out. Let's see if today they get to an understanding!
> 
> Also... you were the happiest about baby Wright. We weren't (or well, at least I wasn't) expecting such a strong and good reaction to Ella and Fred expecting a baby. It's so nice!
> 
> Before you go on reading, put on some music :) https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5ntTeOUh9MMTeNRNdGoa0L?si=lCyOyTNyTyCuCm9g_WGLVw

Anne went into the house and felt an eerie silence. No music, which was usually the first thing Gilbert setup when he arrived home. She frowned slightly as she kicked her sandals off.

“Gilbert?” she called, but received no answer. “Gil?” she tried again, walking to the kitchen and then going around to the dining room and living room, an increasing sense of dread in her. She went quickly to the bedroom, after seeing the bathroom door open. 

He wasn’t anywhere.

She bit her lips. She had really really  _ really _ fucked up for him to go. He never  _ ever _ left. He was always there. A constant. So firm. So steady. Gilbert Blythe didn’t storm out. He wasn’t like that. She was reckless and impulsive and horrible and of course she ran away whenever she couldn’t take the tension anymore, but it was the first time in her life that she found Gilbert gone. 

And she didn’t know quite well what to do with that. Was this how he felt every time she went out the door in a fit of anger? God, she wasn’t doing it again. Ever. This was… lonely and sad and so so quiet, such a false calm.

Anne sat on the edge of the bed, thinking of what to do, noticing the box of condoms on the nightstand, like a promise. Should she call him? Text him? Would he even answer? It was so out of character for him she couldn’t even imagine how he would answer. Maybe give him some space? When she stormed out the only thing she wanted was to be left alone to sort whatever she needed. So maybe that’s what he was doing. She got up and went for her carry-on, that she had left next to the closet after she carelessly abandoned it on the entryway, and started unpacking.

Then she did some laundry. Watered the plants that needed it, mentally thanking Fred and Ella for taking care of them. Looked around for anything she could prepare for dinner, but it was still too early. Looked at her phone every five minutes, always hoping more time had passed, but mainly that he had written anything to her. She bit her lip again and went to the couch to try to read but couldn’t really concentrate. She needed to sort this. She needed him home so they could talk.

**Carrots (17:44): Come home? Please?

Gilbert watched at the notification, frowning slightly.

“What?”

“Anne,” he said, passing the phone to Fred. “She’s… she’s always referred to the apartment as… my place. Or simply  _ the apartment _ . Never… as home.”

“Then go, Blythe! What are you even waiting for?” Fred said, placing the phone back in Gilbert’s hand and almost pushing it in the direction of the parking lot.

“I… Yes. I should go. Do you think she…?”

“It’s Anne, Blythe. Obviously she figured something out. Now go home and please talk to her? Before doing anything else? Don’t cover difficult conversations with sex? It doesn’t make them go away…”

“Wright! Honestly!” Gilbert answered, annoyed.

“Just saying. Go!”

And so Gilbert walked to his car at a brisk pace. As he drove the twelve minutes back to the building, he kept going over and over the message Anne had sent him. _Come home?_ _Home?_ Anne had never been one to take words lightly, so he knew it wasn’t a slip of the tongue. If that were the case, she would have said it any other day, and even then, if she didn’t feel at home, she wouldn’t have let it out. She took months before referring to the Cuthbert’s as home. He knew in her vocabulary it wasn’t a light word. It was not a mistake, not after the fight they’d had on this matter. _Especially_ not after it. She could see now her home could be with him. How she had come to that conclusion, he died to know… But he wasn’t going to complain. She had seen it. She had asked him to come back. He felt a pang of guilt about having left the apartment in such a moment. But… he had been frustrated, alone, Fred had already offered, he had no clue if she was going to be gone for an hour or more… He wouldn’t duel on it. 

He parked and breathed deeply for a few seconds before coming out of the car. He went up the stairs, still going over their discussion, over the pain he had felt, but… over the sheer hope that single text message gave him. He entered the apartment to find some mellow music playing. He sighed. This  _ was _ home. Her music, her plants, their books, his mess. He kicked of his shoes quickly.

“Anne?” he said, trying to get an idea of where she was. She appeared almost immediately, looking at him with big eyes. He was home. He didn’t look mad any more. She half-smiled, unsure of what to do or how to talk. “Hi. I’m sorry. I went for a walk with Fred, I didn’t mean to leave like this... He’s… There is some good news,” he said, not really knowing what to say or how to explain having left the place. He had never done so and didn’t know how to come back now. She nodded, but still looked at him. So, good news? After all… this? What was going on? Why had he gone then? Why was he so quiet? They stared at each other for what seemed like a lot of time, each waiting for the other to talk. “We need to talk, first, if… if you would be open to it?” he finally said, tentatively. She didn’t seem about to snap as she did before.

“Please?” she replied. She needed him to know what she had just discovered. In any means she could. If it was talking, she would talk. She walked back to the living room, hoping he would follow. He went after her, noticing the yearning in her voice, but stopped at the door.

“Do you want some tea?” he asked. As much as he wanted to talk with her, he also wanted some distance. Something to hold. Fred’s comment might have been out of place, but he did see the point.

“Um… sure?” she answered, sitting on the sofa. He went back to the kitchen and prepared a couple of mugs as she stood by the side, quiet and nervous. He gave her one mug and they went back to the living room. He waited for her to take a seat and he took the opposite edge of the sofa, leaving as much distance as possible between them. He wanted to see her as they talked. But he didn’t want to be next to her, because then she would just bury in his chest and he wouldn’t be able to see her eyes. And he needed to see them for this.

“So, here is the thing, Anne,” he said, fully intending to have it all out in the open. Because beating around the bush would only take them so far and he wanted a real, full relationship with her. A relationship with future. Long term future, not just… shitty 2020 future.

Anne looked at him, annoyed at the distance he had so deliberately put in between them. She looked at the stubble he had on his face after not shaving since Friday, and how his chin looked ever so splendid. How his forearms were tense as he held the cup of tea. He had a leg on the sofa, sitting sideways so he could actually face her, the annoying suspenders just in the perfect place. He suddenly frowned.

“Carrots, are you even listening?” he asked, because she had an absent-minded expression even if she had her eyes on him. She blushed violently.

“Sorry? I… got lost?”

“Anne, this is important,” he insisted, his brow furrowed. Because it was.

Anne looked at him, frowning as well, but she nodded. She could listen to Gilbert Blythe talk and not get lost in his voice, right? Not get… gosh, it was just the same tone. Soft and low at the same time. It still made her jittery inside as it did when she was a teen, but now she understood what it meant. And they were finally alone, no Delly, no gang, no Bash knocking on doors… She looked how his eyebrows moved and the way his lips formed the words and felt warm inside as she examined him, longing for his touch. They had barely kissed in the whole day, with the drive and the fight and the morning rush at the LaCroix home, and those lips always did the most marvellous things to her… 

At some point, Gilbert realised he could be talking about pandas going to the moon while wearing tutus and he would get no more of a reaction from her, because apparently she was in her own little world. A little world of dilated pupils, uncomfortable shifts on the sofa and slight blushes, eh? He did know that expression and he tried to contain a smile. They could always talk later. The implications of her text were clear enough: something had happened for her to consider this apartment and him home and that was all that he wanted that day. They could talk about their careers later. He drank some tea looking at her directly in the eyes and she blushed some more. He had stopped talking, not seeing the point to it.

“Oh, fuck it,” he heard her mumble under her breath, before she got up and walked two steps to where he was, sat directly next to him and kiss him hungrily, demandingly, biting his lower lip as she got his head even closer to hers tangling her fingers in his curls. He did his best to not drop or tilt the cup. She finally relented, but didn’t leave that much of a space between them. “I have no idea of a word you said. Can we talk later?” she whispered, her voice raspy and her eyes closed. She only opened them as she finished her question.

“You can’t get away with not talking, Carrots,” he murmured, but her kiss, the evident look of want she had in her eyes was not helping him be strong. She took the cup from his hands and left it on the side table.

“I want to talk. Later. I promise,” she whispered as well, before kissing him in a much gentler way. Soft lips against his, caressing them, her tongue sliding slowly along them. He gasped, not really expecting such a soft, tender touch, and she deepened the kiss as his arms held her.

“Anne-girl... ,” he tried, taking a hand to cup her cheek. Because he really didn’t think kissing would solve anything, as Fred had just said. “We really need to get this straight,” he said as she started giving him small kisses along his jawline, toward his ear.

“It is straight,” she whispered directly in his ear and he felt a shiver go down his spine. He wouldn’t be able to remain this sensible for long if she kept touching him like this. She wanted him. She wanted him to touch her, to touch him, to become as undone as she believed they could.

“It is not,” he insisted, but swallowed as Anne bit slowly his earlobe. “Anne, I…”

“What, Gil?” she asked, before giving him an open mouthed kiss just below his ear, knowing full well it was a weak point of his and hearing him trying to control a moan.

“I just… I can’t..” he tried to think coherently as she nibbled him on the side of his neck. “Where is this going?” because that’s all it mattered, in the end.

“What?”

“You and me. This relationship,” he insisted, trying to cling to whatever reason was left in him.

“You’re home to me, Gilbert Blythe,” she answered, putting some distance between them and looking at him in the eyes. She spoke with such security and conviction in her voice that he felt his stomach give a jump. “I’m not going anywhere. I can’t know about ten years from now, but I’m willing to figure it out with you.”

And that did it for him. That’s all he needed to know for sure and certain today, and he closed the gap that was between them, kissing her thoroughly. One hand caressing her all along her back, the other tangled in her hair, feeling the warmth her body was radiating. At his contact Anne felt how she melted into the embrace as he turned slightly hovering over her, slowly laying her down the length of the sofa. They could go over the details later.

“You are home to me, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert,” he declared, as he kissed her slowly along her neck and her collarbone, watching in awe how she arched her back and her chest to be closer to him. “You have been since I met you,” he whispered in his ear, giving her small bites as he trailed down to her chest as she whined. How could it be possible she had been that for him for so long, if they weren’t even on speaking terms? She was wearing a flowy summer dress that had thin straps, and she felt her center grow increasingly warm as Gilbert slid one of them down her arm.

After that rushed something the other day on the sofa before Delly interrupted, she had wanted him. Had wanted to feel him inside her again, because it had been such a foreign, amazing and indescribable feeling she wanted to understand it. And she needed him. Like, now. She tried moving her hips against him, trying to convey her message as a small moan escaped her throat. Gilbert noticed it, but he didn’t want to rush anything today. Yes, he could just fuck her right there on the sofa and be done with it within ten minutes. He knew they could have that, so starved they were for each other. But he didn’t want that. He went back to see her eyes, all dark blue, pupils dilated, the flush in her cheeks.

“Gil, please just…” she wasn’t even sure of what she was asking.

“Shhh… Today I’m making love to you, Anne-girl. And we are not rushing it,” he said before kissing her softly, slowly, almost teasingly. “Today you get to see what being loved feels like, Carrots,” he whispered in her ear before going back to where he had been kissing her before, just above her breast. She sighed in anticipation, feeling the blood run hot in her veins, trying to swallow at how scared she suddenly felt. Not of him. Of how much she was feeling and how bigger this could get if he kept on with that plan of his. She just wanted him now. He gave her small bites, small open mouthed kisses, trailing down the other strap from the dress and exposing a bit more of her chest, her bra coming into view.

“Gilbert, please,” she pleaded, because she didn’t know what she needed, but was certain it had to do with him. She felt him smile against her skin and pushed the suspenders down his shoulders, making him downright chuckle. He sat up, put them down and looked at her.

“Now what, sweet-girl? What do you want?” he asked.

She swallowed. Everything was too much to ask? All of him? She sat up as well and started undoing the buttons from the linen shirt he was wearing, going one by one. Her fingers were trembling slightly and he helped her and then took off the shirt, leaving it in the ground. She kissed his chest, making him hiss slightly as he trailed a hand down her back to her buttocks, bringing her closer to him. He sighed as she kissed his nipple, trailing her tongue in a circle around it, and nudged her so she would straddle him. Seeking her mouth with his, he growled a bit as she moved against him, his hands under the soft cotton fabric of the dress, caressing her bottom, bringing her closer to him. Anne moaned against him, burrowing her face in his neck as she felt the now familiar sensation grow inside her.

“Here… let’s take this off, shall we?” Gilbert proposed, tagging at the fabric of her dress. She lifted her arms and he slid it off up her head, his hands going immediately to her bare waist as his mouth kissed her in between her breasts. She tried moving against him again, but his hands trailed down to her hip, just above her panties, holding her in place. “What do you say we go to our bedroom?” he proposed, smiling slightly.

She nodded, not trusting her voice.  _ Their bedroom _ . It felt right to think of it that way. Not as daunting as it had seemed some hours before. He stood up, his arms supporting her as she wrapped her legs around him and kissed him on the neck. He walked in the direction of the bedroom, which really wasn’t that far away, but the way she was nibbling at his neck didn’t let him process the simple action of a leg in front of the other. He stopped against the wall that was just next to the door of the room, pressing her against it.

“Do you have any idea of what you do to me, Carrots?” he asked, moving against her as she let a small whimper come out. This. That pressure. This movement. Right there. He kissed her chest, watching how her breathing was increasing in tempo and how she seemed to be getting close just by him moving against her, her back on a cold wall. “Goodness, Anne…” he said at that realisation, not daring to stop moving now that he saw the tension she was in. He searched for her mouth, biting her lower lip and pounding against her. 

“Gil, I…” she tried, because this, this was so quick, so… she felt as he trailed a hand in between them, against her damp panty, and started moving his fingers in addition to the friction they already had going in between them. “I…”

“You do you, Carrots,” he said, sweat breaking in his forehead at the strain, just as she tensed, moaning against his neck, trembling. Oh, how she had needed this. All this anticipation. All this tension since the night before. And the night before that. She felt as if she was melting as Gilbert held her completely again, entering the bedroom and laying her in the middle of the bed and standing up.

“I don’t even know what overtook me,” she confessed in between breaths. Because it had been so fast. So sudden. He looked at her sprawled form above the duvet and smiled.

“I don’t know either, but no one is complaining, Anne-girl. I love feeling you come against me,” he said, looking at her straight in the eyes. She bit her lip, blushing. “Do not be embarrassed, Anne. There is no reason for it. I really do love it,” he said sternly, and she half nodded. “Now… I was about to kiss every little spare space of your body, if you’d allow me,” he said softly, his eyes unwavering from hers. She swallowed, not really understanding why on earth someone would like to do so if she was homely and so full of freckles, but the adoration in his eyes seemed to tell another story. One that made her curious. So she nodded. “May I…?” he said, his hands over her panties.

Anne nodded. Please. Because the need hadn’t gone away. Not yet. She was starting to doubt it ever would. So Gilbert trailed them slowly down her legs, watching how moist they were below, and threw them in the direction of the hampster, not even caring to check if they had made it. He was too busy kneeling in between her legs, kissing her stomach, going freckle by freckle like he had dreamt of doing for half his life, feeling how she squirmed underneath him, how she left out little sighs and whimpers and moans that were getting him impossibly hard inside his pants he had yet to take off. 

He let his kisses wander lower, getting closer to her thighs, giving small nibbles as Anne tried not to let her hips move as they were insisting to. But when he gave an open mouthed kiss to the inner side of her thighs she couldn’t help the thrust forward, and felt him smile against her. She tried to control her breathing, but her heart was pounding so hard against her chest it wasn’t really possible. She tried propping herself on her elbows just as Gilbert was looking at her, pausing for a moment to ask for a silent permission and she understood in a flash of a moment what he was about to do, her eyes going as wide as they could at the notion of Gilbert Blythe actually…

“I kind of need you to say yes, darling girl,” he said, even when her expression was probably all he needed. But he had been asking for her consent every time he did anything that he hadn’t before, and he wasn’t about to change that. He saw her inhale deeply, as if she was about to submerge in water, but she didn’t manage to say anything. He blew a little air on her center, making her squirm and he looked at her again. “I would love this, but only if you would as well. And I’m not assuming anything now,” he said in a soft, low voice, and saw her swallow again as she nodded. “Voice, Carrots.”

“Y-yes,” she managed to stammer, and he spread her legs further apart. Just slightly. 

First, he kissed the inner part of her thighs again, even closer to her center that before, before just going for what he wanted, trailing his tongue alongside Anne’s softest folds as she moaned throatily, reclining as she didn’t feel like she had the strength to look at Gilbert do that to her. She had never actually imagined how this would feel, never thinking anyone would actually do it on her, and the softness and control of his lips and tongue were beyond anything she could have imagined. Beyond anything in her frame of reference. So soft. So wet. Moving so precisely against her very center, but without any edge, any harshness… she felt a tingling first, but soon noticed this was beyond any orgasm she had ever felt, alone or with Gilbert. 

He raised his eyes, looking at hers directly as he propped her hips slightly up to have better access, and saw how flushed she was, how erratically she was breathing, how her moans had nothing to do with the shy ones from the past few weeks. How she just seemed to be getting even wetter than before and how her taste was so divine to him he could have never imagined. It was sweeter than nothing. It was essentially Anne, concentrated, and he drank it like there was nothing else in life that could nourish him.

When she came, she felt she was actually shattering. Breaking. Exploding or imploding, she wasn’t sure, but there was no way she was going to be the same person next morning. Even look the same- how could she? Gilbert heard her moans turn into actual cries for the first time and continued what he was doing as she unconsciously held his head in place, her hips arching, every muscle tensing impossibly, until he felt her relax and her cries turn into heavy breaths.

Sitting on his knees, Gilbert looked at her, a silly smile on his lips. He had done that. Anne looked at him, eyes the widest he had seen on her face, pupils so dilated the blue looked dark, her mouth slightly open in a confused awe. He cleaned around his mouth with his thumb and then licked it, seeing how she tried to regain her breath. 

“What… on earth… was that..?” she asked in between breaths. 

“Just me lavishing you as I’ve dreamt of doing since I was seventeen,” he said, not taking his eyes off her, seeing her blush deeper. “And you liking it, apparently,” he added, not containing his smile. She giggled but then saw him more detailedly. 

“Why are you wearing pants?” she asked after a moment.

“It’s what I wear to go out of our home, Carrots. It would be of no use for me to walk around in underwear.”

“Prat,” she scolded him. “Just… take them off?” there was really nothing more he could do to postpone this, and she wanted to feel him again in her. His tongue, great as it was, not wide or long enough… which was good and normal, she decided. But she wanted him.

Gilbert got up, not taking his eyes off her, and undid the button, sliding the pants down his legs, boxers and all. After all this, he doubted he had the strength and will to hold himself much longer. Anne stretched her hand towards the nightstand, grabbing the box they had bought some hours before and threw it at him. He caught it easily, chuckling, and took out one package, tossing the box to the side. As Anne saw him slide the condom on his erection, pressing the tip carefully, she felt her stomach jump in anticipation. This was happening. Now. For real this time, not in that rushed thing they’ve done before on Bash’s sofa on Friday. He kneeled on the bed in front of her.

“Anne,” he said in a low voice, trying to sound like he was very well possessed while he probably hadn’t felt this nervous in a very long time. She looked at him. “I need you to promise me, if you’re not comfortable, if something hurts… You will tell me. And we will try something else,” he said carefully, too aware of her previous experiences to take this casually.

“I will, Gil,” she answered, feeling her chest warm at the notion that he really did care. He nodded slightly, leaning down to kiss her, her hand immediately taking to his hair as he supported himself in a forearm, the opposite hand caressing her as she squirmed below him. 

His erection between her legs, he moved slightly against her, taking his length over her center and making her gasp. He continued that slight touch for a moment, until she moaned slightly, as he kissed her down her throat. Trailing his hand down, he grabbed his erection and guided it towards her entrance, putting in just the tip as he moved to look at her in the eyes. She nodded slightly and he thrusted a little bit deeper, going back afterwards to the initial position.

Anne felt like he was somehow teasing her. She wanted him. All of him. Not just this tiny bit. So the next time he moved forward (just a  _ little _ bit deeper, again), she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him towards her. All of him. Inside her. At once. He moaned, not having expected her bold move.

“Goodness, Carrots…” he said, his voice hoarse, not daring to move, feeling her let out a deep breath she seemed to have been holding forever. She felt complete, now. This was it. Gilbert moved tentatively against her and she corresponded in kind. Slowly. Carefully.

“Gilbert…” she said, because saying his name as he was inside of her was about as close to perfection as life could get. 

“Anne,” he answered, ignoring the hairs sticking to his nape and just watching her, caressing her cheek with his free hand as they slowly found a rhythm that was good for them both. “I love you so much, my dear girl,” he said, leaning down to kiss her and feeling how she melted against his kiss. He felt he was getting closer and was not sure of how he was going to hold it until Anne came as well when she caressed his cheek.

“You go ahead, Gilbert Blythe,” she said to him, when she realized she was not going to have another orgasm that day and that she didn’t mind in the slightest. She knew how much she was loved. She wasn’t being denied any pleasure. She’d had so much already and wanted him to have all that and more. “I love you, Gil,” she added, and he saw this was not about her past history or about her refraining or holding anything, but just about her loving him as much as he loved her.

And that conviction, and just hearing those words from her lips for the first time, was all he needed to get closer to the edge. Anne felt how erratically he was thrusting now, almost as if he was losing control, and for a second she thought he was, his breathing turning into ever deeper moans as he felt himself exploding in her, tension coming to his body as he found release in the one place he had always wanted. How he had always dreamt of doing. Like everything in the whole world was alright and good and nothing could ever go wrong again. The world went still and silent for a second, only a throaty moan coming out of him as he tried to voice her name, not really accomplishing it by the intensity with which he was feeling everything in his body.

Anne hugged his back, a huge smile on her face as she trailed her hand up and down his spine. He tried to regain his breath and moved to lie on her side, holding the base of the spent condom as he retreated and then taking it off and making a knot at the end. He left it carefully on the floor and laid back again, Anne immediately curling on his chest, the sun from the summer afternoon bathing them in a warm glow.

“How nice is to be home,” she whispered, completely at ease as he caressed her back lazyly. He kissed the top of her head.

“It’s perfect,” he conceded. They stayed like that for a while, just cuddling contentedly.

“You had some news, before,” Anne said, as she suddenly remembered something he had said when he entered the house.

“Yes. I also said we needed to talk, Carrots. Something you artfully distracted me from doing, even when I was making a solid argument,” he answered teasingly, and she giggled.

“I have no idea of anything you said,” she confessed.

“I figured as much, Anne-girl,” he chuckled. “I might have received a more vocal answer from any of your plants.”

“I’m sorry? You were just distracting,” she admitted, and he held her a bit tighter, laughing.

“I like being distracting, to be honest,” he said cheekily and she laughed.

“You’re pushing it, Gilbert.”

“In all seriousness, though… We do need to talk, Anne,” he said, looking earnestly at her. He did not want to keep ignoring the issue. She sighed as he played with her hands, kissing her knuckles and flexing and extending them as he used to do since they were teens. He caressed her softly with his thumb.

“I talked with Cole. He… helped me realize that I’ve been looking for something I have right in front of me, Gil,” she said in a low voice, caressing his chest and turning slightly to look at him. “You’re my home. Or the closest thing I have to one, and I would rather make it with you than going around chasing some empty memory. I’m done chasing around.”

“Are you sure, Anne? I… I will be honest with you,” he said, looking for her eyes. “I want you to move in with me. Officially and permanently. I’m not looking for some short-term thing with you, Carrots. One day in the future I want to have a family with you, redheaded kids and all. To marry you. To be by your side and celebrate every book you publish or any professional milestone you achieve in whatever path you chose. To have a house and a dog and have all our friends tease us for how long it took to get there while we have dinner. I want you, yes, but I also want you to come into this understanding what I have in mind and not thinking this is a quarantine whim. This is what I’ve dreamt of for many years. So, do you really want to move in with me?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t pushing his luck. That he would not scare her with his talks of family and dogs and teasing friends. She looked at him and the fear he had in his eyes and for a split second an image of her life without him crossed her mind. Roughly, the past ten years. It was hell. She’d rather fight with him than be far from him. And eventually she wanted kids. Hopefully not redheaded ones.

“Yes, Gilbert Blythe, I want to move in with you,” she said, the end of the sentence a bit blurry as he kissed her deeply for a moment, capturing her lips strongly and trying to convey how much that meant to him. He let her go and she giggled as he smiled broadly, holding her face in his hands.

“I love you, Anne,” he said, looking at her eyes, feeling peace inside. She felt a knot on her throat and tried to speak, but only a weird sound came out and he held her close to his heart. She hugged him tightly, her face hiding in the crook of his neck as she smelled his unique gilberty scent that, she realized now, was what home smelt like. This, this was what she had been looking for all these years. “Oh, and Fred and Ella are having a baby,” he added, because he was so happy for everything he just wanted her to celebrate with her.

“What? Are you kidding? Best news ever!” she exclaimed, sitting up.

“I differ. Best news ever is you, almost naked on our bed after making love with me and agreeing to live with me for good,” he said smiling, kissing her.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo... it's getting hot in here, right? Do you feel the heat? We certainly do! And... it finally happened! They put to good use the stop at the pharmacy ;)
> 
> As a side note, we all know they still have things to talk about. Heaps of things. They will have time. They are living together now. For real. So unless one of them decides that it's really not worth it... they have time.
> 
> Now, tell us! Were you expecting this to happen today? What kind or reunion you had in mind for them? Did it live up to you if expectations? Don’t be shy, share your thoughts with us :)


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So... We might be afraid that we broke some people with last chapter? We're not gonna lie, we are not sorry. It just tells us that hopefully we attended your expectations, even if you weren't quite expecting it right!
> 
> We know you all might be wondering what's next? We don’t want to keep you waiting so here is the playlist of today... and enjoy!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4MK38FfpmFY9nkHIy32g1I?si=eX1c566qRKmKpvCrWDHo7g

**Gilbert Blythe (11:49): Anne-girl. I just talked with Dr. Oak. She can have you this Friday around half past five, after regular patients, or then if you don’t mind waiting for a regular appointment it would be two weeks from today, first available at 15:30. 

**Carrots (11:53): Would she really stay late for me?

**Gilbert Blythe (11:54): She offered. She’s been kind of a mentor all these years, so don’t feel bad about it.

**Carrots (11:54): Ok. Friday then 😊 Go work, dr. Blythe.

**Gilbert Blythe (11:55): I’m going to lunch, actually. Love you 😘 Fred says hi, btw.

“Oy, Blyhte, drop your silly face and answer me, did you bring lunch today?” Fred asked him, probably for the third time. Gilbert looked at him.

“Eh… No, I didn’t,” he said. “You did?” Fred shook his head. “Ok, so…”

“Tims?” Gilbert laughed. “I honestly can’t think of anything else, other than the cafeteria, and I can’t stand the food there.”

“Tims it is,” Gilbert answered. “So healthy. Sandwich, doughnuts and a coffee for lunch, yum.”

“Anne is a bad influence, just so you know,” Fred commented. “Six months ago that was your regular fare.”

“Six months ago I didn’t particularly care much about what went through my mouth, and I was a fraction of the person I am today. So don’t push it, Wright,” he warned, but he was smiling the whole time. Fred shook his head.

“I saw you were talking with Dr. Oak a bit ago? Got you interested in the whole family thing? They could grow together, you know?”

“You don’t have to convince me, Fred. Try to convince the redhead and see if you live to tell. No, it was actually for the opposite, Anne mentioned she’d rather see a doctor to see options, so I was seeing if Emily could have her at some point. She’s coming Friday,” Gilbert explained. “I just remembered, I have to go to have the test taken…” he commented, as he came to the realisation that he still had to do the weekly covid test. At least his nose was used to it now.

“Covid? I thought you were on Thursdays.”

“I was, until I went on holiday. Now it has moved to every Monday, I just have to remember so I can change the habit,” he replied, rubbing his temples, an annoying headache after sitting in front of the computer researching treatment options for a difficult case. 

“I’m telling you, Blythe. Your headaches aren’t normal,” Fred said. Gilbert was about to speak when he shushed him. “Don’t even deny it? Honestly, there’s no shame in using glasses, if that’s what it is... And if you truly hate them there’s always contacts.”

“I don’t have anything against glasses, I just don’t think they’re necessary. Yes, I tire myself reading, but who doesn’t?”

“People who acknowledge their poor eyesight?” Fred countered. “Honestly, you just like to suffer. Please check yourself up? If it’s not your sight, better to know quickly what’s going on inside you.”

“I don’t like to suffer,” Gilbert mumbled as he took out his phone after feeling a buzz in his pocket. Maybe Fred was right and he should book an appointment.

_ callmecordelia tagged you in a post _

“Oh look at how happy and in love you look…” Fred said as Gilbert slid the notification to see what Anne had published now. It wasn’t even a picture of them in Montreal, but a selfie she had taken weeks ago in the apartment, around the days where they had finally got together. They were in pajamas, her hair a mess, each with a cup of coffee, in the most domestic photo he could ever imagine. But it was just them. Truly them, in all comfort and happiness of knowing they finally were together.

_ callmecordelia the one where we get our shit together. _

Gilbert chuckled at the caption and shook his head.

_ Gilbertblythe: it was a long time coming, Carrots. _

“Come, let’s see if what Anne says is true and I will be stuck with a crappy grilled cheese. I’m hungry,” Gilbert said, walking faster and completely unable to contain his smile as a couple of nurses looked at him, their phones in their hands. 

_ A long time coming _ . Yeah, sure, if you had somehow managed to never lose hope as everyone but her had done over the past decade. Still. She smiled. Gilbert loved her as much as she loved him and it felt even better than she ever imagined as a teen. And for one, she still couldn’t believe they went all the way back to middle school. Honestly. Instead of stupidly making bets, their friends should have put them in a room….  _ Oh _ . So  _ that’s  _ why they had insisted so much on Gilbert going with Anne on that stupid game in grade eleven? Well, maybe something more obvious! 

**Gil (12:15): Carrots, I know I haven’t asked in forever, but you’re keeping up with your B12, right?

She shook her head at the notification. Of course she had! Enough lectures she had received from him all over highschool. It had taken a while when she had to remember on her own after they stopped talking, but she was healthy and alive! It had to count for something, right? She had the vitamin routine now down to a science. And he was the one who was new to the whole meatless world. Not her.

**Anne S-C (12:16): The question is, are you, doc? 😉

**Gil (12:16): Fair enough.

**Anne S-C (12:17): I’ll give you from one I have around. It’s better than the one I used to take, just once a week and you’re done. But from now on, only I can tease about B12! Ha! 🤪

**Gil (12:17): Not fair 😢

**Anne (12:18): Yes fair. I deserve it. It’s my prize 🤩

**Gil (12:18): You shouldn’t get a prize when I actually had to carry your vitamins for months to give them to you every morning 😒

**Anne (12:19): But I do. Get a prize 🙈 🙈 🙈

_ Incoming call: Diana _

“Di! My bosom friend! How are you on this splendid morning?” Anne asked as she answered the call.

“Not as eloquent as you, clearly. But I’m good. So, what’s going on? Tell me everything!”

“I’m with Gilbert! I live with him! It’s the dream!” she answered as she went to fill a jug with water for the plants.

“I can see that,” Diana chuckled. “But go more slowly. I want all the details. What do you mean living with him?”

“As in I am living with him. For real. I’m not going anywhere anymore. Well, to visit, because I miss you, but… Apparently, the city of Hamilton is where my home is and I’m all for it right now.”

_ Incoming call: Cole _

“Wait. Cole is calling me. Is there anyway…. oh, I’ll just call you both over facetime. Give me a second,” she said, hanging up on Diana and answering to Cole. “Cole! I’ll call you on facetime. I was just speaking with Diana. I’ll call you both,” she explained before hanging up and calling both by video call.

“Anne, you can’t just video call with no forewarning,” Cole said, annoyed, trying to put some order into his hair.

“You called first. And that’s rich coming from anyone on that island. You’ve been calling without any warning for months. It’s messy, see? Don’t do it, Cole,” she answered as he mumbled something under his breath and Roy’s half-dressed shadow crossed the background. Diana was laughing.

“Anne! Focus! You were telling me, you’re living there now?” Diana insisted.

“Yes!”

“What? You talked with him?” Cole asked, confused.

“Yes again! So, Cole, Diana, I am living with Gilbert now, in Hamilton, but I still want this to be over so I can visit the both of you. I miss you tons,” she said.

“When did this happen?”

“Last… Yesterday. It was a...long conversation,” Anne said, her cheeks tinting red and Cole stopping in the middle of a huff to look more carefully at her. “But yes, we are living together now. For good.”

“Anne Shirley-Curhbert you are all blushed,” Cole said, grinning wickedly. Diana started smirking as well.

“Do tell us what really happened, Anne,” she said and Anne felt how she was flushing even deeper as she recalled the previous afternoon.

“We talked!” she said. She was not discussing sex with Gilbert Blythe with any of these two perverted minds.

“Before or after you had sex?” Cole asked, putting his shirt on as Anne stammered. “Nan, it’s written all over your face.” She covered it out of frustration.

“Anne, Cole is right… Just one question. Was it good?”

“I have more questions!” Cole interrupted. “But yes, was it good? It’s Gilbert Blythe, please tell me it was or I’ll kill him.”

“You wouldn’t, Cole. But it was, ok? Now, can we move on? I’m living with him!”

“We are so not moving on! I want details! What did he do? How was it? Have you finally accepted we were not lying? Was… Gosh, I even hate asking this, but was it still painful?”

“I… er…” Anne looked at them, biting her lips. “It… wasn’t? It never was. He… just kept asking and asking if something felt good… or if he could… I’ve never felt so cherished before, you now? Like I matter? And Gil is… I can’t even explain it,” she said, but neither of her friends said a word or moved, as it was the first time Anne seemed so dazed about any kind of sexual experience. “It’s like… I almost forget to breathe, the way he looks at me. And then he is so strong but at the same time so… gentle, you know? I can’t quite understand why he would be with me, but he is and he is so… loving and careful and... gentle?”

“I knew it!” Cole exclaimed as Diana squeaked in delight. “I always knew Gilbert would be the gentlest lover ever! He has it all written down his face!”

“Oh, but he has so much written in there, Cole, I can just tell. Gentle? I bet there’s more to this. Anne! Tell us!” Anne felt herself blush even more. Because he was gentle. So gentle. But...

“But then it’s like he knows exactly what he’s doing… Like gentle but determined? I don’t really have that many comparison points, guys. I don’t know, he must have so much experience, the way he… I don’t have that experience. I… he’s so encouraging, and patient, and loving, and I am… I don’t know what to do with this,” she finally said.

“First, Anne,” Diana said, looking at her straight from the camera. “He doesn’t have that much experience. He barely dated back at Uni and then decided it wasn’t worth it. I know for a fact he hasn’t been with anyone in many years. So it’s not experience what he’s flaunting. He’s just using all the information he has collected from you since he’s been allowed to hug you.”

“Exactly! I mean, the way he’s looked at you since ever? I only wish Roy would look at me like that.”

“What? Really? What look? Wait, how come he hasn’t dated? But he’s so kind! And so good! And have you looked at him? I mean, I’m sure he hasn’t told you, but I doubt he has gone years alone…”

“We are sure, Anne. 2015. Has not been with a single woman since that December.”

“How would you even know that?” she asked, disbelieving.

“We have our methods. But trust us,” Cole insisted, as if he had some great piece of information he was withholding and was not about to share. “And about his looks? Nana, Gilbert Blythe? He’s about the most analytical person I’ve ever met. He dissects every little thing he’s interested in. The etymology of a word, cancer tumours… And you’ve been the bigest… enigma for him, and I don’t know if that’s the right word, since he came back from Alberta. I dare you to ask him where the biggest freckle is in your face. He would know. Without even looking at a picture. He’s not been with anyone, he’s just studied you in a way that would be creepy if we didn't know how much he actually loves you.”

“He would not know that, Cole, you’re mental,” Anne said, dismissing him. 

“Let’s bet something, then. Diana and I are sure we can win this. What would you bet?”

“I don’t even know, Cole, what do you want? No one remembers freckles. Maybe as a general mass, but not individually, there’s just too many of them. I don’t even keep track,” she said.

“I want a picture of a shirtless Gilbert Blythe! Not far like those on the lake. A real disheveled Gilbert Blythe in all his morning glory,” Cole said, his eyes lost. Diana nodded and paused her video for a second. “You know, the messy hair? Doing something domestic? The light just so?”

“I don’t have that! Even if I had I wouldn’t send it to you!” Anne said, blushing as she remembered the picture she had taken weeks ago as he made coffee. It still gave her goosebumps whenever she saw it.

“You do have it or you wouldn’t be blushing that way, Nan,” Cole said. “Come on!”

“I just asked him, let’s see what he answers. And I want that picture as well, Anne,” Diana said, a wicked smile.

“What? Why? I don’t have any pictures of Gilbert making coffee and you have Jerry and Cole has Roy!”

“Anne, I’m married, not dead,” Diana answered, very matter of factly.

“And you just confirmed you have the picture. Making coffee, eh? I want that one. The forearms all tense… Roy will love it as well, don’t worry about it,” Cole said. Anne looked scandalized to both of them and Diana paused briefly the video again.

“Anne, he has always been dreamy. His whole life. Since we were toddlers. You never noticed because you are just too stubborn for your own good! You were concerned about him getting on your nerves while most girls only wanted him to pay them attention!”

“Or for him to be gay, but yes! Anne, I’ve been dying to see him shirtless since he finally started working out and every time he comes it’s freaking winter!” Cole said. “My god! I would just paint a series of portraits out of him! Diana, did he answer already?”

“Not yet. He’s Gilbert, of course he would make a follow-up question,” Diana said, rolling her eyes.

“Then it doesn’t count! He must be looking for a picture!” Anne exclaimed, exasperated. Diana paused the video again.

“Ha! Send the picture, Anne!” Diana said as a notification appeared on Anne’s screen with a screenshot of Diana’s phone.

_ **Diana Baynard (12:29): Hi Gilbert. Quick question just so we can win something with Cole. Where’s Anne's biggest freckle on her face? Without looking at any photo. _

_ **Gilbert (12:30): Do I even want to know what you’re playing at? _

_ **Diana Baynard (12:30): Just answer? 😑 _

_ **Gilbert (12:31): Used to be the nose, but now it’s on the chin. Left side. Didn’t see any photos. Who won and what? What’s in it for me? _

“You are not answering that question if you want that picture,” Anne warned her. Diana smiled innocently. “You already did! Diana!”

“Send it to me at least, Nan! I didn’t cheat!” Cole insisted, doing his best impression of puppy eyes. Anne cursed under her breath.

“You are not to share this,” she insisted as she sent them the photo and both their videos paused as they looked at it. “With anyone that’s not been in this conversation. Ok?”

“Oh my god! It is even better than I could ever have pictured in my mind! Roy! Come here!” Cole called his boyfriend.

“That’s sharing, Cole!” Anne said, very annoyed.

“It’s Roy, of course I was going to share it with him,” Cole said. 

“I have to say, you’re a lucky woman, Anne,” Diana said, giggling. “Don’t worry, I’m not showing this to Jerry. Only between the parties involved in this conversation.”

“Thank you, my bosom friend,” Anne answered as she bit her lips. “I can’t even believe he knows that. It’s plain weird.”

“That’s Gilbert Blythe to you, Nan. He’s always been weird. And extra attentive of anything that has to do with you,” Cole explained.

“Right…” she bit her lip, thinking. “So, I was thinking… I really have no experience with this, but… How could I… I don’t know, show him…” she trailed off, unsure.

“What, show him you want him?” Diana asked bluntly, her screen still black.

“Maybe? But without being needy?” Anne answered, uncomfortably.

“I think it’s impossible you pass as needy in front of Gilbert, Nana,” Cole said.

“Be yourself, Anne. Do whatever comes to your mind. Don’t dismiss things as stupid or needy or whatever, just trust your instincts. You want to caress him? Well, do so. You want to reach somewhere? Do that. I’m positive Gilbert thinks you’re about the sexiest woman on earth, but if you want, buy some lingerie or nice bras or whatever, but because you like that, not for him,” Diana said.

“That you’re comfortable in your skin will speak louder, Nan. Believe us,” Cole insisted.

“Ok…” Anne replied, a bit unsure.

“Just one advice, maybe?” Cole said as if it suddenly came to him. “if he has a weak spot on his body and you know it? Take full advantage of it,” Cole added with a knowing smile, “believe me they get crazy about it.”

“Oh yes! Whenever I kiss Jerry in the…”

“Ew! Diana! Gross!” Anne said at the image of her brother. Diana protested and started speaking again as Cole snickered and Anne covered her ears and sang loudly until Diana stopped speaking and Roy appeared on screen. 

“My Anne! How are you?” he greeted. Anne smiled relieved, happy to have left the uncomfortable topic behind. “I couldn’t help but listen to Cole? You know, in addition to that, a little tongue in the weak spot always does the trick,” he added, winking. Cole nodded and made a gesture that he agreed wholeheartedly and Diana tilted her head, interested. Anne frowned. 

“What? It’s serious!”

“But… that’s it?”

“What were you expecting?” Roy asked, confused. 

“It’s just…” she already did that. And it did drive him crazy, she had figured that on her own. That’s what it was all about? 

“She already does that, love, I can tell by her brows and her lip biting,” Cole said, laughing and Anne blushed furiously. “Again, Nana. Follow your instincts. They will take you farther than any of us.”

“I will try that. Can we please change the subject now?”

“If you want. Because I was actually calling with news. Diana, you have an idea already. Guess who’s moving to Toronto!” Cole said, smiling, his video on again. Anne’s eyes widened in surprise, her mouth half open.

“No way! When?”

“Around September, for the start of the school year. Late August. Roy here is looking for a job in one of those fancy private schools from the city and I really need to work on my network, which is the principal reason we are moving. Plus, it’s much better connected than Charlottetown so I will save a lot of money in planes.”

“And spend way more in rent,” Anne huffed.

“Roy’s family has a loft there. It’s rented now, but the lease finishes in October and they already gave word that they’re not renewing it. So we’re going there for a symbolic price, and we already found a temporary place for September.”

“You both are spoiled.”

“We don’t mind,” Roy said, proud.

“Finally going home?” Fred asked as they met in the parking lot. 

“Grocery store first, I can’t go back without produce or she’ll kill me” Gilbert explained. “Care to go?”

“Eh, why not. Let me text Ella and see if she needs anything. So what was it with Anne’s freckles, anyway?”

“No idea. Diana didn’t answer. Your car or mine? Doesn’t make any sense to go in both,” Gilbert commented as they got to where their cars were parked side by side.

“Mine, if you don’t mind stopping for gas. The station is on the way to the supermarket,” Fred explained.

“No problem, just let me grab some bags,” Gilbert said as Fred got into the car. He opened the trunk and took out the reusable bags Anne had given him and then went to Fred’s and sat in the passenger seat just as Gilbert’s phone buzzed.

**Diana (17:06): Cole and I won, of course. The bet was of course you were going to know that. That you somehow noticed a change should grant us double points and now I feel bad for having asked only for a picture. Sorry for the late answer, got caught up in a meeting after.

**Gilbert Blythe (17:06): Your prize is a picture? That’s… zero ambitious. Picture of what, anyway?

“Apparently they had some weird bet going on and I helped her win a picture,” Gilbert explained. “I never understand the dynamic these three have, honest, Fred. They’ve been like this since forever and at one point I just gave up and went along as needed. So I guess I’ll be doing the same ten years later?”

**Diana (17:06): [Photo] This! You look good, by the way.

“That’s a photo of you? Blythe, what the hell?” Fred asked, looking at the conversation as well while they put on the seatbelts.

“Believe me I don’t get it either,” Gilbert mumbled. “I don’t even know when she took it.”

“Weeks ago. Look at that mop you called hair,” Fred pointed, and Gilbert laughed as if it was the best joke ever as his friend concentrated on the road. “What?”

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert was taking pictures of shirtless me before we were even together,” he said, still chuckling, as Fred opened his eyes widely. “Oh, this is the best joke ever. And here I was, trying to be cautious. She’s never living this down.”

**Gilbert Blythe (17:06): Thanks? Should I be worried, Di?

**Diana (17:07): Of course not, Gil. You’re… a feast for the eyes. That’s it. And you have Anne and her chin freckle now, so enjoy that.

**Gilbert Blythe (17:08): So…. I just received the most interesting message, Carrots. Care to guess what it is?

**Carrots (17:08): Oh no she didn’t! 😱 😱 😱

**Gilbert Blythe (17:08): Oh, yes, she did. So, I’m guessing you’re not too unhappy with how I look? 

**Carrots (17:09): You’re too full of yourself, Gilbert Blythe 🙄

**Gilbert Blythe (17:09): I differ. Your camera roll, apparently, is too full of me. But I like it 😜

**Carrots (17:10): It’s just the one! 🙈 🙈 🙈

**Gilbert Blythe (17:11): Are you sure? Wanna bet? 🤣 😂 😂

**Carrots (17:11): I’m having this conversation because I lost a bet. So no, I don’t want to 😑

**Gilbert Blythe (17:11): Ok. But if it makes you feel any better, I also like what I see. Only I’m not ashamed to admit it 😉

“So, tell me Blythe. How’s it going with Anne, now?” Fred asked him, winking.

“You know I don’t tell, Wright. Never did in the past, I have no idea what makes you think I would now,” Gilbert answered, smiling.

“Stop being such a perv! I don’t want details, Gilbert! Just to know how it is going! God, you’re incredible sometimes,” Fred said, feigning annoyance.

“It’s going good, then. If that’s all you need to know,” Gilbert answered as they got to the parking store of the supermarket.

“And…?” Fred prompted, smiling, as he opened the door.

“See? Never satisfied. I know you and your curiosity, Freddie,” Gilbert. “It’s going well. She seems more confident. She’s…” he trailed off, feeling his ears go warm. He really didn’t want this conversation with Fred.

“She’s…?”

“Do you know this myth about redheads having a bad temper and being all feisty and passionate?” Fred nodded. “Apparently it could be applied to more things, other than discussions. And I do know how horrible and cliche it sounds but I can’t think of other way to describe it.”

“No way,” Fred said and studied Gilbert's expression as they got a couple of shopping carts, putting on their facemasks. 

“I’m not giving you any details. So stop asking. Please. I’m happy, this seems to be working, it’s beyond anything I could ever picture and that’s all you need to know” Gilbert said, thinking of Anne’s breathless expression and how damn cute and hot it was. Fred nodded, smiling. “So, what are you looking for? Because the organic section awaits me, over that side,” he said, signaling somewhere on the side of the produce section.

**Carrots (17:24): I’m not afraid to admit it either... 🙄

**Gilbert Blythe (17:25): Aren’t you? Do tell.

**Gilbert Blythe (17:25): I can start, if you want. I like your hair. Always have done. I may have a slight obsession with it.

“Ok, no details then, Blythe. But you don’t need to give them. I already know. You’re transparent,” Fred teased as he put some spinach and cherry tomatoes on his cart. Gilbert ignored him but did the same, and added some other vegetables he knew Anne liked. He added a box of tiny cucumbers he had never seen before, but Anne would probably know how to prepare.

**Gilbert Blythe (17:29): Your turn, Carrots.

“Need anything else?” Fred asked him. Gilbert shrugged. He kind of did, but didn’t want to hold Fred back. “If you’re not in a hurry, I could actually do all the shopping so that’s done and over with. Ella has been having a bad time with the nausea and you know as well as I do that leaving the groceries to her doesn’t make any sense even when she’s feeling good. All she seems to keep down is cereal and it’s driving me nuts.”

**Carrots (17:31): You know I like your chin. I’m just not engaging in this conversation because you are already too full of yourself, Slateface.

“Let’s do this, Freddie. Let’s be domestic together,” Gilbert said. “How’s Ella? Has she tried anything for that?” he asked as they turned on an alley and started gathering what they needed, doing mindless talk. Gilbert tried to pay attention to his friend, remember the stuff Anne had asked for and keep with the conversation he had going with her. Even when that’s the only thing he wanted to focus on.

**Gilbert Blythe (17:32): It’s different when you say it. And I don’t particularly care about my chin.

**Gilbert Blythe (17:33): Let’s continue. 

**Gilbert Blythe (17:33): I like the sound of your voice. And all the sounds you make. 

**Carrots (17:35): !!

**Gilbert Blythe (17:36): That doesn’t count, Anne-girl.

**Gilbert Blythe (17:37): But I can go again. I like your expression when you’re flushed and breathless.

**Carrots (17:38): Gilbert Blythe! 😳

“I just need to grab some chocolate and then I’ll be done,” Gilbert commented as Fred added two boxes of Lucky Charms shaking his head. He wanted to go home now. “Ella should definitely try ginger tea. It helped Mary a lot back when she was pregnant. She just sipped it all day long.”

**Gilbert Blythe (17:40): I’m going to assume that means you think I’m wholly perfect. You are to me, too. But I like to enumerate what I like. 😉

“I’ll bring her some. See how it goes. You know how you study it and then do all the rotations and all? It really doesn’t prepare you for this,” Fred commented.

“Why should it, Freddie? Now you’re emotionally involved and living it 24/7. You better than anyone should know this,” Gilbert commented as they went to pay, each to an empty register. They met outside, Gilbert’s groceries haphazardly thrown in the reusable bags Anne insisted he use and Fred’s neatly organized after many years of practice in big Ikea bags. He chuckled at Gilbert.

“I’m learning, save your comments,” he murmured as they went back to Fred’s car.

“Some things really never change,” Fred commented. Gilbert shrugged. He had what she had asked for, as far as he was concerned. Chore done. Thinking about that... He wanted to see Anne. And she hadn’t answered anything else.

Gilbert opened the door and left the grocery bags next to it while he kicked off his shoes. Anne was in the kitchen preparing something or other and he went straight to hug her from behind. He kissed the top of her head.

“Hello, Anne-girl,” he said, smiling into her hair as he saw what she was preparing.

“Hey, Gil,” she said, not turning and concentrating fully on the batter she was mixing. She was not going to face him. Not after Diana sent him that picture and even less after that wholly inappropriate conversation. So she was going to keep doing the banana bread. She felt his lips on her neck and tried to ignore him.

“So how was your day?”

“Good, actually,” she said, “We managed to finish the first draft of the book, so I hope to advance on the edits these following weeks, so Kak’wet gives it a second look.”

“Congratulations, Carrots!” he said, holding her tighter for a second. How proud he was of her. And her friend. But how he was also not going to miss the opportunity to completely tease her. She brought forward the tin she had already prepared and started pouring the mix in it, confident that she had deterred the target. “So… That’s quite the picture, the one Diana claims you sent her. Care to talk about what the bet was about?” he asked, nudging her to turn when she finished spreading the batter. She saw his teasing smile, arched eyebrows and felt herself blush as she remembered the conversation.

“I… I don’t?” she tried.

“But I do? Please! If for some reason I confessed to Diana that your largest freckle is right here,” he said as he touched it lightly with a finger, “then you can tell me why that happened,” he insisted, seeing as she bit her lip.

“It’s embarrassing! I really don’t want to, Gilbert,” she tried, still blushing.

“Why? What’s embarrassing?” he asked, still smiling. “If it’s anything about the two of us, you don’t need to be embarrassed, Anne-Girl.”

“I…. Ugh, ok. But you can’t laugh! Absolutely not! You understand?” she said. He nodded broadly and she proceeded to tell him in the tiniest of tiny voices about her conversation with Cole, Diana and eventually Roy. And he tried to keep his promise. He really tried. But he couldn’t help a tiny laugh that escaped him. “Gilbert Blythe! You promised!”

“You are just too cute when you’re embarrassed, Anne-girl,” he explained as he leaned over to kiss her gently, his lips caressing hers softly. “And I love that you felt cherished. You are, darling girl, so much,” he whispered, before kissing her again as gently as the last time, caressing her cheek softly before cupping it. “And don’t ask those gits for advice. You don’t need advice. You’re perfect just by being you, Carrots, ok? Perfect,” he stated, looking her straight in the eyes. She smiled, still blushing, and he kissed her forehead before hugging her as she rested her head in his chest, sighing.

“Thank you, Gil,” she murmured.

“Whatever for?”

“Letting me be me?”

“Always, Carrots.”

“I just have one question,” she asked after a moment. He retreated and rested against the opposite counter, and she took advantage of the situation to put the banana bread in the oven. “Diana and Cole seemed fairly certain that you haven’t been with anyone since 2015?” she asked as she configured the timer, and missed how Gilbert played absent-mindedly with his ring. 

“They are correct,” was all he said. He really didn’t want to explain too much. “I tried dating for some years… Had one or two kind of serious relationships… But it never made any sense. I knew I was not going to be happy or fulfilled with anyone different than you and it wasn’t fair on any of those women. So in early winter 2015 I decided to just quit dating and haven’t been with anyone since. Hadn’t been with anyone for months, now that I think of it.”

“With anyone? Seriously?”

“Anne, I don’t do one night stands. I don’t see the point in them. So no, no one,” he said honestly. She looked at him and went over where he was standing, looking at his eyes. “It… I know it doesn’t make any sense because I didn’t even know if I was going to ever see you again, but it felt too much like cheating on you and whatever woman I was trying to date and I couldn’t bring myself to do it anymore once I realized that. Because one of the women pointed it out to me, actually,” he explained, uncomfortable, remembering his break up with Lottie. “You must think I’m mental,” he added, chuckling.

“I…” she started answering, but then decided to just kiss him. Because she felt it conveyed much more what she wanted to say, anyway. So she grabbed those teasing suspenders of his and brought him down so she could kiss him soundly. Not like his gentle kisses from before, but tasting his lips, giving them a small bite as he brought her closer to him, melting into her kiss as he had imagined down the whole afternoon.

“Goodness, Anne. I missed you the whole day,” he said when she finally let go.

“I’ve missed you. I’m the one locked in here,” she teased. “So, what do you want for dinner? You’re very hungry?”

“Anything? I don’t mind, really. Let me just bring the groceries… maybe we get an idea while putting them away?” he proposed and went back to the main door to pick the bags, chuckling as he remembered the picture.

“What now?”

“I can’t believe you’ve had the hots for me this long,” he confessed. Anne swatted him playfully.

“You’re too full of yourself, Slate!”

“I’m not!” he said, laughing even harder. “Had I known, I wouldn’t have been as measured and careful around you, that’s all,” he said, winking at her. She rolled her eyes as she opened the fridge, putting some veggies in there.

“What about I prepare a nice salad while you tell me about your day? About the part that didn’t include talking with Diana.”

“Sounds delicious, how can I help?” 

“Just telling me nice stories? How’s Ella? Did Fred say anything?” she asked. It was just easier to cook when she wasn’t trying to supervise him.

“She’s living on cereal and having nausea, but otherwise, she’s incredibly happy,” he explained. “I’m so happy for them you can’t imagine, Anne-girl. Last year, when they told me they wanted to have a kid… I pictured Ella pregnant instantly, somehow. Which is stupid because I know it hardly ever works that way… But then months passed and I stopped asking, because Fred would get very quiet and I could tell he was struggling with the subject. He didn’t need anyone else rubbing it on him, you know?”

“I guess… So it was a surprise now?”

“It was. But of the best kind,” he said, sitting on the island and watching as she worked.

“How come it took so long?”

“No idea. It just happens sometimes… For all you were scared the other day at Bash’s, it was really far-fetched you could end pregnant. I mean it does happen, otherwise there wouldn’t be so many unplanned pregnancies… But usually couples try for some months before actually managing to get pregnant or get lucky really quickly.”

“I had never thought about it,” she commented, mixing the ingredients, thinking about how she had thought on and off all through her twenties about becoming a mother, but never doing anything about it. It just was never the right time.. Or the right partner.

Gilbert also stayed in silence, thinking briefly about Fred and Ella, but then musing about his opportunity. After having met with Yang as they had scheduled over the phone, everything was much clearer. And it was a great opportunity he really didn’t want to miss. But at the same time...

“Anne?” he asked. She looked at him. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about...”

“What about?”

“My work?” he said, his hand going to his nape. She looked at him, questioning eyes, raising an eyebrow at his nervous gesture. “Ok, so you know I work in a teaching hospital, right? It’s also where I did my residency.”

“Yes, I got the idea. I remember you told me the nurses that follow me on Instagram are actually students?” she asked, just to confirm. Gilbert chuckled. “They’re cute, I really don’t mind. I just thought it weird at the beginning.”

“I still think it’s weird they follow you on social media, to be honest,” he mentioned. “Anyway, so it’s a teaching hospital. Last week, while we were in Montreal, Dr Yang, who is the dean of medicine, called me to offer me something… I hadn’t told you before, because I wanted a chance to talk it through with him and understand how it would work if I were to say yes…”

Anne turned to look at him, curious. Could this really be happening to him? She remembered how he used to tell her, when they went on long walks around Avonlea’s forest, that he wanted to teach once he was ready. He wanted to work and help people, yes, but he also wanted to share that knowledge once he was ready.

“So… he wanted to offer me to start teaching. I wouldn’t teach full time. Just a couple of classes a week and only for first year students. But it’s an amazing opportunity, to be honest… I didn’t think I would be able to teach until years from now and suddenly they recommended me.”

“And did you answer them? You have to say yes, Gil!” she said, completely forgetting about dinner and looking at him, not able to contain her smile. Gilbert chuckled. “It’s what you always wanted! You still want it… right?” she asked. Because ten years had passed, so it was possible that he no longer wanted that. Maybe he was comfortable as an oncologist and he didn’t want to teach?

“No, I do… I would want it,” he said, trying not to sound as eager as he felt. His hand, already on his nape, messed with his hair as he scratched the back of his head. He sighed. “I honestly wanted to run it by you first. If… we’re going to live together for good and all… I believe we should make big decisions together, don’t you think?” he mentioned cautiously. Anne felt her heart skip a beat. She had thought about what implied living with him long term… About sharing their lives, and possibly having a family in the future, and supporting each other and banter about the best sofa… But for Gilbert to take her into account this much, this early on? She bit her lips, smiling. “Anne?”

“Thank you, Gil,” she said, going over to where he was and hugging him. He returned the hug.

“You don’t have to thank me, I want to share my life with you and for us to make decisions together,” Gilbert mentioned, walking over where she was standing and holding her hands gently. He caressed her knuckles with his thumbs. He smiled at her, full of illusion and excitement, and it made her heart feel warm. “So… I take it you’re in favor? I would probably come home later sometimes, but it won’t be like it was when I did shifts.Jus coming back around 7:00 or something like that.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” she commented, letting go of him. “I’m so proud of you! Gilbert Blythe, professor of medicine. It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” he laughed in response and brought her closer, holding her tightly before kissing her. He let go of her, still smiling, and she returned to the dinner prep.

“Ok, so I’ll give them notice. I have until Friday, but… Now that I talked with you about it, I feel much more confident,”he commented, getting some dishes and organizing something to drink. Anne smiled at him. They talked a bit more about the subject, but eventually fell on a comfortable silence as they ate. She was so happy for him- it had been her first reaction, after all, and she was so proud! But… Her lack of employment kept lurking back from the shadows. Even if she wasn’t precisely lazing the days away. Gilbert looked at how her smile slowly faded and was replaced by a slight furrow on her forehead.

“Everything is ok, Anne? I can always pass on the opportunity if it makes you uncomfortable,” he said softly. This was closer to the reaction he had feared. She looked at him.

“No, Gil. Don’t pass on. It’s amazing! And I’m truly happy for you, honestly I am.”

“Then what happened? You look pensive and sad,” he commented.

“Well… It’s just, I’ve been here for months, and I have been sending all these CVs, and I haven’t even received an invitation to interview. I’ve been broadening the places I apply to, but it’s almost like no one wants me.”

“Anne-girl… I don’t think it has to do with you. We’re still pretty much in the middle of the pandemic and things won’t go back to normal for months, maybe not even next year,” he said softly. She sighed.She knew that, objectively, it probably wasn’t something against her. Still, it was hard not to take it personally. She had gone through it a couple of times with Patel, who more than found any job was trying for her to focus on what she really wanted to do. Only it wasn’t as evident as she had thought at the beginning. “And you know it’s harder to find a job when you don’t have one. Don’t be hard on yourself. What kind of jobs are you applying to now? Do they really interest you?”

“Well, no, but apparently they’re hiring. And I’m looking to be hired. Should be a perfect fit?” she shrugged.

“I don’t think it works that way, Carrots. Look, you can keep looking for jobs if you want, but haven’t you thought about doing something else? What about going back to school or writing?” She looked at him. Well, going back to study seemed to have been her dream for so long… But could she, really? Did she really want to?

“I don’t know, Gil… Honestly, it’s not that I haven’t thought about it. I talked about it with Patel the other day. I kind of think I want to study, but I’m not so sure? I just don’t know if I actually want to, or if I’m supposed to still want it when it was all I could think of a couple years back.”

“The good news is that you aren’t in any rush, Anne-girl… I mean, if you want to study, then it would be a good idea if you made up your mind before registrations closed, but there’s always next year. So there’s really no reason for you to hurry it.”

“I just don’t want to impose… I mean, I do understand we’re living together, but that has to mean as well that I pay my part in rent, you know?”

“You don’t need to do anything. We can revisit that once you find a job you like or you decide to study or write or do whatever makes you happy, ok?” he said, thinking he was not allowing her to pay rent either way, but that could wait. He wanted her to first focus on what she wanted.

“How can you be so patient with me? ” she asked without even thinking. She had been living there for months, hardly doing anything… Well, writing a book, but still, nothing that allowed her to contribute to all the expenses around the house, and here he was giving her even more time?

“I just love you, Carrots. It’s what anyone would do for a loved one. So if you want to go back to study, please do so. If you actually don’t, and prefer to dedicate your days to writing, how great is that?” he said. “Just think about it. No rush. And we can talk about it in some weeks if you have a clearer idea. Just… you know that just because you have a bachelor on pedagogy you don’t have to work in that, right? It gave you great foundations, but you have so many more abilities and experience than that, that you’re already putting into practice with what you’re doing with Kak’wet. Please, explore all your options.”

“I will. Thank you, Gil,” she said, feeling better after having talked it through with him. She didn’t have all the answers she wanted for herself at that moment, but she knew now she could take the time to explore them. Maybe she could call someone else, get a second opinion… After all, the possibilities now seemed to be endless.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... they started that talk and Gilbert finally told Anne about his opportunity. And it turned out... reasonably well, right? What do you think about her dilemma? About Cole's big news? Gilbert's headaches making a come back? Tell us everything! We hope you aren't as speechless as you were last time ;)


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